The Christmas Calendar
by BunniesAndBooks
Summary: Every day of December until Christmas children are allowed to open one little box of a special calendar that is filled with a piece of chocolate. Instead of chocolate however, this particular calendar is stuffed with smutty, little gkm-filled one-shots centering Kurt. Different pairings every day, many of which are rather unusual.
1. Jesse

**Pairing: Kurt/Jesse. **

**Prompt: Kurt's body is like a chocolate rum souffle, we all know... It has to be warmed up to rise..**  
><strong>His ass needs to be warmed up for fucking too, and Jesse knows the best way to do that is by a good hard spanking.<strong>

**Words: 2643**

**Kinks: Spanking, rimming, anal, some dirty talk, bareback.**

**AN: So, for weeks now I've spent copious amounts of hours writing this huge-ass compilation of stories. It contains of 25 parts, at the very least 24 different pairings and one story that's closer to an orgy than anything. Like I said in the description this is all because of the Swedish Christmas Calendars we have, where we open one box every day of December, but that I've switched the chocolates for smutty gkm stories. I've also added another day to it, because in Sweden there will only be 24 ones as we celebrate on the 24****th****, but knowing where most of my readers live I figured this would make the most sense. And I don't know if these kind of calendars exist elsewhere, so please enlighten me about it! :D**

**Now, you might not like every pairing, you probably won't. You ****_definitely_****won't like every single kink that will get listed over the course of this month, but when you find something you don't like, just don't read it and we'll all be much better off. Okay?**

**And just so you'll all know, I will hopefully manage to upload daily, but Wednesdays and Thursdays are no way done deals. If I don't however manage to get them up they will all be uploaded along with the Friday story, 'kay?**

**Now enjoy yourself, I'm feeling proud of the characteristics I've managed to get right for most of them, even though I've never even written a more than a tenth of these characters before.**

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><p>Rosy cheeked and giggling madly Kurt shut the front door behind him and his boyfriend, before plastering himself against the older boy's back and pressing a quick kiss against his neck, his mitten covered hands pawing up the other teen's sides and finally wrapping around his chest, hugging him tightly from behind.<p>

"Thanks Jesse. You're right. Though absolutely freezing, ice skating can be fun," Kurt conceded, smiling against the tenor's back. He could feel his boyfriend lifting his own arms and grasping Kurt's hands in his, squeezing them gently as he turned his head and pouted his lips for a kiss. Something Kurt happily gave.

"Told you so," the taller of the two murmured against Kurt's lips, making Kurt yet giggle again from the tickling vibrations.

Pulling away reluctantly Kurt finally took off his mittens, along with his shoes, coat and the warm knitted scarf that had once upon a time been his mother's, before carefully hanging everything up on their proper places.

Shivering, still feeling quite cold, Kurt hugged himself, rubbing his arms and trying to warm himself up as he looked away from his boyfriend. "So, I'm kind of cold. Want to come downstairs and watch a movie with me, maybe cuddle a bit under the covers?" he asked innocently as he began walking towards the basement, knowing without looking that Jesse was hot on his trail. He could feel the older teen's eyes glued to his back as he hummed his agreement. Or, rather, Kurt could feel those green eyes focused on his thighs and ass.

Oh well, he did have a rather nice ass he supposed... He would have preened had he not been so freezing, but as it was Kurt wanted nothing more than turning the heat to full blast and crawl into bed.

Which he did, after first bringing his laptop over from his desk and telling Jesse to choose a movie while he himself would fiddle a bit with the heater.

Soon enough they were laying side by side on their stomachs, their elbows nudging against each other as they shifted to get comfortable; the soft, sad words of Ewan McGregor speaking in the background as they smiled at each other.

To say Kurt had been pleased when he noted the movie Jesse had chosen would be an understatement. He _adored_ Moulin Rogue, and well aware that his boyfriend knew this while not being that big of a fan himself, Kurt knew without a doubt that he would do something to make it up to the tenor. Later though – as in after the movie.

There was just something about that movie that had Kurt hooked; maybe it was the lavish and grand musical numbers, maybe it was the blatant romanticism that coursed through every minute of it – but it was without a doubt Kurt's favorite movie. Well, at the very least it tied first place with Sound of Music, but it really was that good in his mind.

And as always, Kurt was entranced from the very first minute, his mind instantly captured by the oh so familiar story. Always like it was the very first time watching it.

They were at the part when Satine is introduced to sing her first song that Kurt first felt the hand roaming across his back; warm and steady as it strokes over his clothes, gentle fingertips dipping innocently under his waistband and caressing his cold flesh, giving him goosebumps. A quick glance over says him nothing – Jesse seems wholly enraptured with the film, but Kurt knows something is going on.

But – Moulin Rogue. There is _nothing_ that can make him stop watching it.

"You know," Jesse whispers into his ear a few minutes later, making him shiver hotly, "I can think of a few other ways to make you warm again. Ways that are not only more _fun_, but also far more... _effective_..."

And once again Kurt shivers, though he isn't sure if it's because of the taller teens words, or because of his hands that had traveled even lower, now palming one of his ass-cheeks over his skinny jeans. It's most likely a combination of the two anyway, as when he closes his eyes there are thousands of images flitting by in quick succession, every little picture hotter than the other.

Him writhing on his back – his stomach – Jesse pressed against him, above him, under him. Kurt on his knees, _Jesse_ on his knees... Kurt bent over Jesse's_ lap_...

No! No, his favorite movie is playing. All that will just have to wait – even though he's uncomfortably hard against the mattress.

"Later Jesse, maybe after the movie," Kurt answers flippantly, turning his gaze back to the screen just in time to watch Satine fall of the swing. Kurt gasps quietly; both from watching her fall yet again, but also from Jesse squeezing his ass rather pleasantly.

"How about I do all the work, and you can just keep watching the movie," Jesse continues on, placing a series of kisses along his neck and somewhat bared shoulder.

Kurt has to bite his bottom lip to keep from keening when the other boy latches onto his skin and begins gently nipping and sucking it. "Once the movie ends we can do whatever you have planned, okay?" Kurt promises, trying to absorb what is happening on-screen, but finding it difficult with the wonderful onslaught to his neck. Not that he would ever admit to it though.

"Please?" Jesse murmurs, soothingly licking over the small bruise that will fade by morning. "As I said, you can keep watching Satine seducing that creepy duke and I'll do all the work." A small nip to Kurt's earlobe before he continues. "And you know how much you love it when I spank you..."

This time Kurt definitely gasps, and a small moan falls out of his throat before he manages to choke it down.

God, Jesse is playing dirty, saying things he knows Kurt won't refuse. Can't refuse. Doesn't want to refuse. Not really anyway.

But, but... Moulin Rogue! It had been months since he'd last seen it; school, glee and helping his father at the garage monopolizing his time, not to mention the boy splayed half on top of him – now that he can finally enjoy the film he really doesn't want to stop.

So he refuses to give in, wanting to watch the movie. But that's the problem though, isn't it? Because he definitely wants Jesse to continue too. He loves getting spanked; it always makes him so damned hot and bothered, always guaranteeing to grant him the greatest releases. Those tingling sparks shooting straight through his entire body with every single little strike, his sensitive skin and flesh accepting every hit readily and gladly, him bursting with arousal and hanging on the edge of coming before the final hit has even struck...

Holy McQueen, he wasn't going to be able to say no, would he?

He finally snuggles back down into the comforter below him, not able to stop smiling ridiculously at the thought of his boyfriend behind him, wiggling around impatiently waiting for Kurt to allow him to touch the ivory skin before him, to practically maul it. "Fine, fine," Kurt at last concedes with an exasperated but happy smile. "_You_ go ahead with that, and _I'll_ finish this movie myself."

A quick open-mouthed kiss is placed just below his ear. "Thank you," Jesse whispers quietly. With only a little bit of help Kurt can feel Jesse dragging his skin tight jeans down along with his underwear, and he shivers feeling the cold air making contact with his still freezing skin.

'Jesse better be right about warming me up...' Kurt thinks deftly, once again trying and failing to focus on the screen before him. He isn't going to be able to take in a single moment of the movie is he?

When the first smack lands on his right cheek, Kurt knows that he definitely isn't going to care about the movie anymore, not as those sparks shoots up his body and making him bite his bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasurable agony. His cock, already hard and leaking, drags against the bedding under him when the second strike against his ass hits, making his hips stutter forward and a moan tumble out of his throat.

God it had been too long since the last time they'd done this.

Though only having been together for less than six months, they had already found several big and small kinks they enjoyed together; spanking definitely being the most arousing for the both of them. And to believe it had all started by chance.

Jesse had only walked up to him in the school hallway to give him a good morning kiss before walking away with a small smack to his jean-covered bottom. Though, the senior hadn't gotten far before Kurt had pounced on him, red-faced and aroused beyond control, and had demanded the older boy to fuck him in the janitors closet before class. All because of one small, harmless smack.

That had been the start of it, and nowadays Jesse always made sure to spank Kurt when they had little time to get off, or when they had more than enough time and just wanted to get Kurt all hot and bothered. Or any time really. Something which the countertenor was aware of, but found no reason to argue with. Not when it felt as amazing as it did.

The third and fourth hit strikes across his crack and Kurt lets out muffled groans against his elbow where he'd hidden his face. Strike five, six and seven landing in the creases between thigh and ass, making him bite down hard on his arm to keep from screaming. Eight and nine land more towards his back, making his hips buck up, tilting more to ensure that the next strike will be aimed more towards the center of his globes.

Ten lands straight on, and Kurt wails with pleasure.

After that Kurt is more or less in a dozy haze, with him moaning out at every little smack and edging closer and closer to his release. He is on the very brink of coming when Jesse finally relents his strikes and Kurt protests hotly, too wound up and desperate for the older teen to stop _now_ of all times.

"What?! No, no, don't stop! Don't you fucking dare stop now! I was just about to co-ome!" Kurt whines, trying to rut himself to completion against the mattress, but strong hands grabbing his hips stop him.

"Maybe I don't want you to come just yet," Jesse teases, pressing a quick kiss to his reddened and stinging flesh. "Maybe I want to be buried in that wonderful ass of yours when you come, feel you squeeze around me..."

And good heavens, isn't that a pretty picture? Hurriedly nodding along with Jesse's plan Kurt cants his hips up, begging without words for the other boy to hurry up and do just that. But Jesse only chuckles and strokes a smooth palm over his sensitive ass.

"Relax Kurt, there's no hurry, and I have to stretch you don't I? Now, do you want my fingers, or do you want my tongue?"

And really, if Jesse thinks there is any doubt about what Kurt wants from those two options, Kurt might have to rethink his choices in boyfriends. Still he practically chants out his answer, "Tongue, tongue, definitely your tongue. God. _Please_. Pleasepleaseple- ah!"

His whimpered pleads are choked off by the first swipe of Jesse's _very_ talented tongue across his spread open crack; a wet trail of saliva now running from his balls to the very base of his spine. After that Jesse pretty much just devours him, not that Kurt's complaining, not at all.

Round and round that tongue swipes at his eager entrance, making him buck and flail and moan and gasp and _plead. _That devious little tongue is making him fall apart at the seems, and Jesse hasn't even breached him yet. And he knows he won't be allowed to come until Jesse is in him, knows he won't be allowed to come unless he's clenching around his boyfriend's blessed upon length. And while knowing all that is complete and utter torture, it is also so damned titillating and enticingly hot.

Grasping the sheets in his hands and squeezing them hard Kurt arches when Jesse at last points his tongue and slowly, oh so slowly, thrusts it into him. Teasing him. Torturing him.

Time and time again that tongue fucks into him; his muscles gradually relaxing around the intrusion, allowing it deeper. Kurt is panting, small 'uh uh' noises leaving his mouth steadily as Jesse spreads his ass open further and feasts on it.

"Please, please Jesse, just get in me, please, I'm ready, I'm so, _so_ ready..." Kurt sputters out, begging the tenor to get a move on and just _fuck _him already.

"Hmm," Jesse hums, leaving stray licks around his rim as he spreads Kurt hole out with his thumbs. "What if I want to continue eating you out then, huh? What if I want to wreck your ass before I fuck you? What then, huh?"

Kurt only whines in response, pushing his ass back as much as he can, his trembling limbs not allowing for much movement.

But it seems to be enough, for he can feel the older boy's fingers leaving him empty, can feel his presence turning away before returning, and when a silent 'click' from a bottle sounds Kurt cheers internally.

Soon enough there is a wet pressure against his hole, and pressing himself back he can feel something fill him. Something so big, so thick, so long. So utterly familiar and wholly welcome.

One long moan passes his lips as Jesse pushes inside him, stretching him so greatly. After that the only thing Kurt can take notice of is the way Jesse is pounding into him, how he is filling him up again and again, punishing his prostate and fucking every imaginable sound out of Kurt. Everything is just so perfect with this boy that is so good to him, so great at making Kurt feel beautiful, and sexy, and _wanted._

A strong arm wraps around his waist suddenly and lifts his hips up so he's resting on his unsteady knees; making the quick, jabbing thrusts reach even deeper in him, reaching depths Kurt didn't even know Jesse could touch, and he cries out how much he loves it.

It isn't long before he can feel the awaited orgasm rushing up on him, taking up all his senses as he seizes up before exploding; his cock spurting come between himself and the mattress, his ass clenching around Jesse's thick length. He's on cloud nine, lolling there for several long seconds before slowly returning to earth, to his bed, to his Jesse and feeling him spilling his load deep into his ass, coating his inner walls splendidly.

For many long minutes after there is only harsh panting sounding out in his room; Kurt laying with his head rested on Jesse's chest, feeling his every breath as they calm down together. Their hands are clasped together on Jesse's stomach, Jesse's thumb stroking the back of his hand.

Finally Kurt is able to gather his wits, and with a smile and a quick kiss to his boyfriend's cheek he turns over and finds the computer that has been folded together and pushed aside during their earlier activities.

"So, since I can't remember where we were I suppose we will watch from the beginning," Kurt says with a smirk in Jesse's direction. "Care to watch it with me?


	2. Brittany

**Pairing: Kurt/Brittany. **

**Prompt: Brittany thinks she might be gay so she convinces Kurt to have fluffy, awkward sex with her 'just to make sure.'**

**Words: 3977**

**Kinks: Fingering, blowjob, PIV, multiple orgasms.**

**AN: So, it's five am in Sweden... Gonna catch a bus in an hour so I'll just post this one right away. :) Prepare for the fluff.**

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><p>"Hey, Kurt!" Kurt heard someone yell behind him, and while this would usually freak him out as it tended to be one of his bullies calling out for him most of the time, this time he could tell it was just Brittany. So he merely turned around and waited for the ditzy cheerleader to catch up to him.<p>

"Hi Britt, what's up?" he asked his friend, allowing her to grab his gloved hand and swing it in the air between them as they continued walking out of the school and into the freezing cold.

"Well, Kurtie, I was talking to Santana and I think I might be gay. Did you know that dolphins are just gay sharks?"

Kurt had gotten used to being somewhat confused by Brittany's little comments, but it never ceased to amaze him. "Umm, okay?"

"So, I was thinking, since you're capital G gay, can I have sex with you so I can be sure? Lord Tubbington thought I was just being dramatic when I told him."

At the first mention of sex Kurt's mind blanked, but when he fully processed what the blonde had said he stopped walking and just looked at her with her mouth hanging open. Brittany though kept going until their linked hands brought her to a stop and she turned back to Kurt, looking confused. "Britt, w-what?"

"What, what?" She asked tilting her head to the side.

"W-why do you want to- to have... s-sex, with me if you think you're gay? Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?" He couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

"Oh, I don't want to get married to you, I just want to have sex with you." Wait, what? What the- "And why would we be defeated if we got married?" Brittany asked looking at him with her head tilted, horribly confused from his words.

"Never mind," Kurt responded, closing his eyes in slight frustration. "But why, Brittany, do you want to have sex with me?"

"Like I said, I want to know if I'm a dolphin too, and the only way I'll know that is if we sleep together. Duh."

"Oh Britt-Britt, I don't think..." Kurt started, only to see the blondes eyes growing watery at his words and her lips beginning to tremble. Running his hand over his face and chanting internally at himself that _he shouldn't do this, it was a stupid idea and he was a fool for even considering it..._

"Yeah, sure Brittany," he sighed heavily, "sure, I'll sleep with you, though I'm not sure it will work."

"Why do everyone keep saying they want to sleep when I ask if they want to have sex?" Brittany asked him, her face yet again showing confusion. And while this normally would make Kurt think 'adorable and sweet', this time he only landed with 'oh sweet Madonna'.

What had he gotten himself into?

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><p>"Are you sure about this?" Kurt asked for about the twentieth time since leaving McKinley. They were now sitting side by side on Brittany's bed, Brittany holding on to one of Kurt's hands with both of hers and petting it. "You can change your mind, you know," he reminded her, somewhat pleading with her to change her mind, but knowing deep down she wouldn't. "I won't mind."<p>

"I'm sure," Brittany cooed, stroking the pad of his thumb fascinated by how soft they were. "I want to know if I'm gay or not. And sex is fun, plus your hands are really soft, like baby hands, and I really want you to finger me right now," she finished bluntly, looking into his eyes.

Kurt on his end blushed a furious red, eyes closing on themselves as his breath caught in his throat. His heart began beating horribly fast and he felt slightly panicky; it was all happening way too fast.

"Umm... yeah... hmm... um..." Kurt fidgeted. "Can't we kiss a little bit first?" At least he was familiar with that, the stark reminder of his 'butch period' clear in his mind. Maybe if they kissed he could get his head around what was happening.

"Sure, you're a really good kisser Kurtie."

And apparently that was that because suddenly Kurt found himself with a lap full of Brittany, her tongue delving into his mouth and pressing against his teeth.

"Whoa!" Kurt exclaimed, breaking away and grabbing a hold of the girl straddling his thighs. "I was thinking more like... um... _calm_ kisses," he muttered at a loss for better words. "And then maybe we can work up to kisses like _that_."

Brittany only rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. But usually when guys are gonna have sex with me they want me to kiss them like that, so... Oh!" she cried out with wide eyes when she thought of something, "but by then they have mostly licked my armpits first, 'cause it gets me totally hot, and then they kiss me like that. Do you want to lick my armpits first too?"

Oh holy Madonna... Kurt had wholly forgotten about that little tidbit about the blonde girl. But there was no way, _no way_, he was ever, _ever_, going to lick her armpits. "No honey... no. I think I'm good," he said, scrunching his face up at the very thought.

"Suit yourself, it's really sexy," she shrugged, going back to kissing him. Though this time with her mouth closed. Her hands framed his jaws, her thumbs moving against his cheeks calmly as she moved her lips against his.

Kurt's eyes fell shut, and he brought his hands up to her waist, holding her gently as he cautiously kissed her back, trying so bad to get into it. Though, much like last time, he couldn't quite get past the feeling of it being _wrong_.

But he had promised the ditzy blonde to do this, and he wasn't going to back down on a promise. Especially not on someone as naive and sweet as Brittany.

He let one of his hands travel up the backside of her cheerio top and up to her ponytail, his deft fingers working the hair loose as he tilted his head and kissed Brittany a little bit deeper than before. Soon her long hair was framing her face, strands of it falling against Kurt himself and reminding him yet again that he was doing this with _Brittany_ of all people.

Taking a deep and calming breath through his nose Kurt decided that if he was actually going to go through with this he might as well try to do it as good as possible for the tall girl. Though he might not know much – or anything really – about the female body, how hard could it possibly be to make one fall apart?

So, on the count of three Kurt finally opened his mouth and carefully licked over Brittany's cherry flavored lips, soon letting his tongue tentatively enter her own very much enthusiastic mouth, their tongues delving together and exploring. And while he may not be that interested in Brittany there was something about kissing somebody like this that got to him; it was intimate and new, surprisingly mind-blowing and to put it frankly – rather _amazing_. He could get used to kissing somebody like this.

Allowing his hands to bury themselves into Brittany's blonde locks he cautiously canted her head, finding a new angle that made their lips slant together better, one where their noses wouldn't be bumping into the other's constantly like they had before.

He could feel fingers dancing across his body, nimble fingertips tracing circles over his neck and shoulders, skimming over his arms and torso, teasingly plucking at his nipples and making him shudder from the titillating sparks that elicited. Then suddenly there was a palm pressing down against his most private part of his body, and despite still being completely and utterly soft, he gasped. This was the very first time he'd had anybody apart from himself ever touch him there, and it was overwhelming to say the least.

"Brittany," he whispered biting his lip. "Um, not to complain or anything... but can we... lay down or something?" Anything to get her to remove her hand for a few minutes so he could calm his racing heart.

She only nodded her head, going back to kissing him as she left his lap and pulled him down above her on the bed. And this was much better, Kurt found. Now her hands were occupied with petting over his back, and he felt much more in control of the situation.

Of course that was when she let her hands fall down to his own, grabbing them and leading them up to her breast, making them cup around her, _squeezing_ her.

So much for being in control of things.

But Kurt wasn't going to say anything; this was just two bumps of flesh after all. Nothing dangerous. So he might not be attracted to the whole boob thing, but it didn't mean he was scared to touch them or anything. Didn't mean he was disgusted by them.

So he played with them. Awkwardly, might he add. It was obvious that he had squeezed them too hard one or two times when Brittany whined through clenched teeth, but he had also made her moan against his lips a few times, so he counted that as a win, albeit a small one.

Eventually though he allowed one of his hands to fall away while the other was busy playing with one of her nipples through the red cloth of her Cheerio top, his fingers skimming up her soft arm to her neck where he palmed her jaw, his thumb stroking over the skin on her cheek as he kissed her softly.

It wasn't long after that that Brittany pushed him away though. At first he was confused by her actions, but it all became _very_ clear when she reached down for the hem of her shirt and in one quick move removed it from her body. He blushed watching her just sitting there before him, half naked of all things, in only her bra and her skirt.

He knew from countless stories from Puck and the other guys that the girl hardly ever wore panties, something which made him blush even harder when he remembered _that_ particular fact.

And then he blushed a little harder still when the blonde reached for his own shirt and began unbuttoning that too, soon removing it from his body and revealing just how far his blush had spread. He removed his white wife beater on his own though, needing to keep some sort of semblance of things.

The next thing he knew he was pushed down on the bed, Brittany laying splayed above him with her almost bare breasts pressed against his own skin, her teeth nibbling into his pale throat. He couldn't help but keen though, whatever she was doing to his skin felt impossibly good, and he grabbed hold of her waist to keep her there, just for a moment longer.

Soaking in the feeling of having his neck ravished like this Kurt forgot himself momentarily; his hands feeling their way down her soft flesh down to her still covered ass, grabbing it in his palms and pressing her closer to him, to his slowly awakening member.

She groaned against his neck in return and soon began grinding herself down against him as she sucked a bit of his skin into her mouth, lapping at his marked flesh with a soothing tongue.

Suddenly remembering something his step-brother had mentioned in passing about girls needing to be prepared before one could have 'proper sex' with them, that they needed to be wet or they would get cranky and scary, Kurt slowly and hesitatingly brought one of his hands from Brittany's supple ass between their two bodies. Hitching the girls short skirt up (which was very awkward considering how closely the two were pressed together at the moment) and slowly pressed his fingers against something he had never encountered before in his life, something he never had thought he ever _would_.

No need for it to be said, but Kurt had no idea in hell what he was doing at the moment. All of his ministrations were based on was the one fleeting comment about a girl needing to be 'wet' before you could have sex with them. But how did one get them there, and what was that _thing_ pressing against his wrist above her- was it a slit it was called?

So mostly Kurt just allowed his fingers to trace all over her sex, searching and exploring for any indication that what he was doing was working. But Brittany didn't make any sound apart from the occasional slurp when she attacked a new spot of his neck.

On a side note, he was going to be completely back and blue tomorrow wasn't he? Great, and how exactly was he going to explain that to his father? And which of his scarves would he use to cover everything up with?

Thankfully Brittany seemed to catch on to his situation, and taking hold of his hand she brought one of his fingers against her sex, and pressed it inside her.

She was tight, impossibly tight. No wonder guys liked sleeping with girls if they felt this tight just around his finger; just imagine what it would feel like having this stretched around his dick. But maybe it was just Brittany that was this tight?

Kurt still knew naught about how to get a girl wet, but he figured that since Brittany had made sure to press him inside her she wanted him to play with her there. So he brought his finger back out and slowly pressed it back inside, feeling it slide just a little bit easier that before. In and out, in and out, in and out. With each press in Brittany was a tad slicker, a tad more open and willing to allow him in. At last Kurt felt confident enough that this might actually work out in the end.

"Two. Now, give me two," he could hear the blonde murmur into his collarbone where she had begun marking him. His neck was probably out of unblemished skin now then. Oh his skin regimen would hate him after this wouldn't it?

But anyway, she'd said two. How could that possibly work? She was still so incredibly tight, and she was no where wet enough, but she should know her own body good enough for this shouldn't she?

Slowly and carefully Kurt introduced a second finger to her hole, easing it inside gently, an lo and behold she sucked the digit in almost greedily. He may be fitting snugly inside her, but he fit after all.

So he began thrusting the two fingers inside her now – all the while feeling her opening up around him, slowly, slowly. His other hand was playing with her hair, going back and forth between twiddling it around his fingers and idly petting it.

She had such smooth and soft hair, he should get her to tell him how she treated it...

"Clit," he hear Brittany panting against him. "You should rub my clit."

"What's a clit?" Kurt asked confusedly. Female anatomy was so not his strong suit.

She sighed and once again reached down for his hand, taking his thumb and making him press against this little nub that made her gasp and clench her other hand into his shoulder.

'That was the _thing_ he had felt earlier!' Kurt thought excitedly, but moderately so, it wasn't like he was actually getting into this. No sir, no.

But he pressed against it, rolling it back and forth with his thumb and listening to every little gasp and breath Brittany gave out because of it. His fingers inside her had stilled while he first found the little nub, the _clit_, but now he felt confident enough to attempt to do both things simultaneously.

While a little, well, _awkward_, he somehow managed to keep up with both things, and it wasn't long until he felt her clench around him, and wasn't _that_ an experience, realizing that you had made somebody _come_.

Knowing oneself was the cause of that? It was thrilling. And a tiny bit arousing.

Easing his fingers out of the girl Kurt pressed a chaste kiss against the top of her head, the only piece of her he could reach where she was slumped down on top of him, still panting raggedly.

But it wasn't long before she was sitting up on top of him, smiling hugely down at him.

"Thanks for fingering me," she said sweetly, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "Most guys doesn't, and when they do they hardly ever make me come." _That_ threw Kurt for a loop; he had managed to do something most other – overwhelmingly _straight_ – guys wouldn't? Couldn't? Wow...

"I'm gonna blow you now," Brittany announced abruptly and out of the blue, reaching down for his jeans and popping the button without preamble. Within seconds his jeans and underwear were shimmied down and away, and he now lay completely bare before the blonde girl. Luckily he was still rather out of it – stuck on the topic of both being able to get Brittany off, but also of the blatant information that he was going to get his first blowjob – to fully realize that he was utterly _naked_, before a girl no less, so he had no chance of building up any of the panic he normally would when it came to being naked publicly.

No, instead there was suddenly a wet, warm heat surrounding his very most personal part of his body. Warm, smooth hands were gripping the base confidently as a wet tongue was lapping around his crown, and before long Kurt could feel Brittany's mouth closing around him, _swallowing_ him.

Crying out from the abrupt onslaught of pleasure Kurt – completely out of control – bucked his hips up, seeking more of that wet warmth.

He could hear Brittany cough and sputter below him, and he mumbled out a litany of 'I'm so sorry's' behind the hands he had hidden behind, ashamed of his body's reaction.

"It's okay Kurt," Brittany said, bringing Kurt's hands away from his face and looking into his eyes with her own big, blue eyes. They were filled with tears though, and it just made Kurt feel even more guilty so he closed his eyes again, hiding from her stare. "Hey, it's okay," he heard her say, cupping his cheek with her palm and kissing his nose. "Don't be sad dolphin, all boy's do that during their first blowjob, it's because their penises are so happy to see me. Okay?"

And somehow, her silly explanation made Kurt feel just a tiny bit better, and he giggled quietly at her words before opening his eyes. "I'm really sorry though. I didn't mean to..."

"I know," was the only thing she said before leaning down and claiming his lips.

They stayed pressed together for a while longer, just kissing each other calmly, somewhat chastely. But then Brittany broke away and started searching through her bedside drawer.

"Santana told me I always needed to use one of these," she said, holding up a condom. "I don't know why though, she didn't explain that. But I trust her, so I'm going to put it on you, okay?"

Kurt nodded. Things were getting very real right now. He was about to loose his virginity in just a few short moments – if he hadn't already with that botched blowjob – but surprisingly, he was rather okay with it. He knew almost nobody had a perfect first time, or were with that perfect person, but he had Brittany, and he liked her, trusted her. She would be a good person to loose his virginity to.

He moaned lowly feeling her roll the rubber down his length, and before he knew what was happening she was sinking herself down on top of him, steadying herself against his chest as she did.

As he had expected earlier she was tight around him, snug like a glove as she was filled up entirely by himself, and the experience was far better than he had thought it would be. If this is what it felt like being on top – even when the bottom was a girl, and she was technically the one on top – Kurt couldn't think about ever giving it up.

He hurried to grab hold of her skirt covered hips when she struggled to start a rhythm of bouncing up and down on him, helping her by lifting her up before dropping her down. But it wasn't long before his arms grew tired of the task and he gently, but hurriedly, flipped them so he was laying on top of her. She quickly wound her long legs around his back, pressing him in and closer, whining when he wasn't moving quickly enough for her tastes.

He lifted her skirt out of the way, and eased himself down over her so he could take her bottom lip between his and nibble on it. Only then did he pick up the pace, pushing himself in faster, harder... deeper.

It was a struggle to trust himself into her and kissing her at the same time, so he broke his lips away and buried himself down into her neck, mouthing at the skin there as he continued to pound into her carefully but quickly.

Kurt could already feel himself close to coming, and wanting – no, _needing_ – Brittany to come first, Kurt took advantage of a little trick she had taught him earlier and brought two fingers down to her clit and started furiously rubbing at it. Only seconds after could he feel her begin to shake and twitch as she clamped down on him, milking him for all he was worth, and he came into the condom, shooting rope after rope of milky white cum into the rubber.

Slumping down on her Kurt kissed her sweat soaked skin as he eased himself out of her, before getting out of the bed and throwing the soaked and tied up condom away before returning to her with a washcloth.

"You were always my favorite boyfriend, Kurtie," Brittany mumbled tiredly as he cleaned her up, and she was asleep before he had returned from placing the soiled cloth into the laundry.

"And you will always be my favorite girlfriend Britt-Britt," Kurt whispers quietly as he presses a kiss to her forehead before getting dressed and leaving her house, realizing the time and knowing he is late for dinner at home.

* * *

><p>"I forgot to ask you yesterday, Britt-Britt, but did you figure out if you were gay or not?" Kurt asked the day after as the two left the choir room, Brittany once again swinging their joined hands between them.<p>

"I don't know," she responded cheerily. "Maybe. I don't really remember how I felt when we had had our orgasms, because I fell asleep so quickly," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, maybe you should go ask Santana to help you the next time," Kurt told her, hoping she would take his advice. While it had been a good experience that he had enjoyed he wasn't sure he wanted a repeat performance of it.

"Yeah, maybe. She's really smart. She always teaches me new stuff, so maybe she will know. Thank you Kurtie!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly to her.

Kurt could only chuckle at the girl's antics. "You're so welcome Britt-Britt."


	3. Matt

**Pairing: Kurt/Matt. **

**Prompt: Someone can't take their eyes off of Kurt, nor hide the bulge the teen gets everytime he looks Kurt's way...**  
><strong>Kurt decides to seal the deal.<strong>  
><strong>Matt goes home and finds Kurt in bed, fingering himself, then Kurt (while the guy is frozen, staring) sucks him off, just to the point of coming..tells the jock.."if you want to come, take it."<strong>  
><strong>And the jock does.<strong>

**Words: 3721**

**Kinks: Masturbation, blowjob, anal.**

**AN: I miss Matt... Anyone thinking he might make a miraculous return to season 6?**

* * *

><p><em>He could hear the heavy footsteps clearly through the closed door, but it only made his fingers move quicker, pushing inside himself at a far quicker rate, as well as making far more heavy pants and low cries tumble out of his throat. He could hear the jingle of the doorknob, and the small screech from the handles when the door opened.<em>

_He smirked when he cast a glance over his shoulder towards the boy standing there shell-shocked in the doorway._

"_W-wha...?" He could hear the dark boy ask wondrously._

_Dragging his fingers slowly out of himself with an inaudible whine, Kurt turned himself over on his back, his legs splayed obscenely wide and beckoning the other boy to look. He smirked._

"_Hi Matt."_

* * *

><p>For Kurt it had all begun the previous week, but the actual truth was that it had begun months earlier with a high kick during a football game, something which Kurt only had a fleeting hint of an idea about.<p>

As it was Kurt had begun his school day much like all the other day's so far; being unceremoniously grabbed by a plethora of jocks on his way inside, only to have them push and pull him towards the big dumpster in the back of the school. After being graciously allowed to remove his stunning designer coat before actually being thrown in, two of the lumbering jocks had picked him up and tipped him over the edge.

Of course, with it being winter and all – and an especially cold one at that – the contents of said dumpster wasn't quite as awful as usual as most of it was frozen – Gaga the number of times he gave his thanks to a God he didn't believe in for all the rotten food being turned to an icy mass and not sticking to his clothes.

However, stepping out of the dumpster had been a whole new adventure, for what he saw standing there staring at him was something he hadn't expected. He especially hadn't expected the way those dark chocolate eyes had darkened considerately for those few seconds that he saw his eyes fallowing the lines of his body, and he sure hadn't expected the slight swelling in the boy's moderately loose jeans.

The boy had quickly muttered out a low bye when he'd noticed Kurt staring back at him before hitching his backpack higher up on his shoulder and hurrying his way inside.

After that Kurt had kept an eye on Matt, noticing more and more times those fallowing days when the football player kept trailing his eyes after him. In the hallways, during lunch, the history class they shared during fifth period; Kurt would always catch the other boy's eyes running over his body, and more often then not would he catch the boy subtly try to adjust himself before anybody would notice what was going on with him.

He especially liked that one time Matt had licked his lips hungrily during lunch when he'd stared – quite reverently – as Kurt had brought spaghetti to school. Kurt had caught his gaze when he'd wrapped his mouth around a single piece of pasta, and slowly sucking it into his mouth, winking when the other boy had begun to lightly pant right there at the table. Nothing had happened after that though, which Kurt found deeply disappointing.

And if he thought about it he could recall several other times before all this when Matt had been looking at him like that, the earliest one being during their brief stint being 'Sue's kids'. Matt had seemed oddly interested in the off the shoulder sweater he'd worn back then, Kurt had kept catching him looking at his bared shoulders when the sweater had fallen down, but at the time Kurt had only selfconsciously adjusted the garment so it draped over his shoulder and would cover all of his pale skin.

...And holy McQueen, all of this explained everything that happened that one day months back when Kurt wore that corset to school!

Gaga, if he'd only known.

Kurt was certain the other boy was into him, but despite all the flirty signals and approving looks he tried to give the other teen Matt never tried anything. Now, Kurt knew that the taller boy was very shy, as was quite apparent from glee club where he'd hardly heard the dark boy speak more than ten words. Before he had found all that endearing and cute, but now it was simply frustrating.

* * *

><p>Drastic measures, Kurt had decided one night, was what it would take for Matt to catch on that he was very much welcome with his admiration. Which would explain Kurt hunting down Brittany first thing the following morning and convincing her to give him the other boy's address. For he knew that she was the only one that would do so without asking any questions, or heaven forbid, understand and then continue to tease him indefinitely, like Puck or Santana surely would.<p>

Of course, she had done as according to plan and when school was over Kurt had driven to the address Brittany had given him. He knew there was football practice that day, so luckily he wasn't in any sort of hurry, knowing he had the time he needed for his plan to work. The only real trouble was actually getting inside that house.

He was lucky on that front though, because when he pulled up outside the quaint little red house a woman was seemingly on her way out. He had known instantly just by looking at her that she was definitely Matt's mother, as they shared the same eyes and over-all facial structure. He had quickly introduced himself as a friend of her son's – which wasn't an exact lie, since they did know each other from glee – and she had let him into the house after explaining that her son wouldn't be home for another hour but that he could make himself comfortable while he waited, and then she had rushed off, probably for work.

Kurt had taken his time after that; considerately exploring the rooms he passed by, not touching anything, but mostly just looking at the many pictures spread out all over the house, and the few signs of Matt laying around that he could find. A forgotten English homework on the coffee table, the red Letterman jacket hanging over the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen and old participation trophies from playing football and baseball as a kid.

The small picture of a younger Matt dangling from his arms in a tree made him smile.

Eventually though he made his way to what he presumed to be Matt's room; the general messiness of it screaming teenager, and since Kurt knew from an unsuspecting Brittany that he was an only child he supposed he was rather accurate with his guess.

He doesn't really care about how messy the place is though, what he does care about though is the hideous Star Wars sheets covering the bed. Not only were they tacky, but they reminded him of Puck shaming another football player that he'd slept with their mother in their bed, ridiculing them of their similar bedspreads. Not that much of a turn on for Kurt.

So he grabs the comforter and places it out of direct sight across the room, the two pillows soon fallowing, but he leaves the black sheet that covers the mattress itself. There, all better.

Placing the messenger bag he'd brought with him on the bed he walked over to the bookshelf, taking in the many, many books, movies and CD's there; happy to find they shared a few things at least when he caught sight of a dvd of Singing in the Rain on the third shelf, and several ratted, worn copies of Harry Potter books on the fourth.

Wandering on he looked at the many pictures of family and friends covering the room, at the framed tickets from what he assumed was supposed to be a Super Bowl years earlier, and at the many, small posters of vintage cars above his desk.

At least they seemed to have things in common, Kurt thought satisfied as he strutted his way back to the bed, shedding his layers as he walked. After folding everything and placing it in a pile on the floor where it wouldn't get in the way, Kurt picked a few precious little things out of his bag, a bag that too ended up on the floor just moments after.

Placing the condom packet and the bottle of lube beside himself as he laid down on his back in the middle of the bed, Kurt began lightly tracing his fingers over the sensitive skin of his neck and collarbone, shivering at the fleeting touches. It wasn't long before his fingers had gone from moving in small, inconspicuous circles to bigger and broader strokes across his chest, teasing his nipples every once in a while when he brushed by them.

Kurt really liked playing with his nipples, they were so incredibly sensitive to touch – much like the rest of his body, really – and he especially liked pinching them as that always made him so desperate.

But he really didn't want to risk getting himself worked up so early at the moment, potentially getting himself off without meaning to before Matt even had a chance to get home, and instead chose to bypass the already hard little nubs to toy with the skin of his ribs, of his stomach and hips. Fingers hovering gently over his bellybutton Kurt let out a small sigh of pleasure; every light touch to his body making him harden much faster than he would like. Still there wasn't anything that he could do about that, so instead he only let his fingertips trace their way down to his thighs, drawing swirling patterns into his skin as his breath hitched when he unintentionally grazed the hard length curving towards his stomach.

Sweet Madonna, he was already too high-strung and wanton, how was he ever going to survive until Matt got there? He allowed his hands to fall to his sides and just breathed. Long, deep, calming breaths. In and out, in and out.

It was several long minutes until he felt comfortable enough to continue, and when happily noticing that Matt would be home within the next fifteen minutes or so, Kurt rolled over onto his stomach, and heaved himself up onto his elbows and knees.

Grasping the bottle of lubricant in his hand he squeezed a generous dollop onto his fingers, and throwing the bottle haphazardly beside himself he reached the sticky hand behind himself and begun stroking over his rim and crack. It was messy, but oh, so good to have something pressing against his eager and empty hole.

Rather well-practiced in the art of fingering himself Kurt didn't hesitate to start with two from the very beginning, only keening lowly at the delicious pressure against his muscles and internal walls. Shifting his other, unoccupied arm slightly so he could rest his forehead against it Kurt set a slow and soft pace of pushing the two digits into his ass; breathy, happy little noises passing his lips whenever he managed to find a particularly great angle.

After gently introducing the third slender finger Kurt found it infinitely harder to keep the light, careful thrusting movements from earlier, instead catching himself several times practically punishing his tiny hole with the digits and needing to force himself to calm down so he wouldn't blow too early.

It wasn't until he heard the heavy thud of the front door closing that he threw caution to the wind and let his fingers roam his insides freely, a happy little squeal falling from his tongue knowing Matt was finally there.

He could hear the heavy footsteps clearly through the closed door, but it only made his fingers move quicker, pushing inside himself at a far quicker rate, as well as making far more heavy pants and low cries tumble out of his throat. He could hear the jingle of the doorknob, and the small screech from the handles when the door opened.

He smirked when he cast a glance over his shoulder towards the boy standing there shell-shocked in the doorway.

"W-wha...?" He could hear the dark boy ask wondrously.

Dragging his fingers slowly out of himself with an inaudible whine, Kurt turned himself over on his back, his legs splayed obscenely wide and beckoning the other boy to look. He smirked.

"Hi Matt."

Apparently he had managed to surprise the other boy a bit more than he had planned to, because after many seconds had passed with him smiling devilishly at him Matt still hadn't moved a single muscle, his hand seemingly stuck on the door handle and his mouth hanging wide open.

With a unbelieving huff Kurt rolled his eyes. But then he thought of something, and with a fiendish smirk he slung his long legs gracefully over the edge of the bed he slunk onto the floor – noticing the dark chocolate brown eyes hadn't strayed from his body yet – and began teasingly crawling his way towards the frozen solid teen.

On his end Matt appeared to be in some sort of trance, because even when Kurt did reach the boy did he not move, not that it bothered Kurt too much, it would only hopefully aid him with his own plans. Placing his hands on the still knees before him, Kurt glanced up with a slightly diabolic look in his eyes, and stroked his palms all the way up to the waistband of his pants. With a quick little 'pop' the button was undone, and in a stroke of genius Kurt didn't pull the zipper down with his fingers. No, he used his _teeth_, reveling in the choked off gasp that earned him.

That was the first sign of life from the taller boy, and Kurt was sure he would be able to draw out many more of those scrumptious noises before he was through with Matt.

Curling his nimble fingers around the waistband Kurt tortuously slow drags the jeans down, then the same with the underwear, letting the garments pool around Matt's ankles. Looking back up Kurt feels his mouth water in the split of a second.

Matt is _huge_; long and thick and so god damned beautiful, and though the football player isn't more than halfway to being fully hard Kurt can't wait until that is inside him. He fucking _longs_ for it.

Until then though? Kurt is definitely getting that into his mouth – he wants to know how much of it he can swallow down his throat.

Pushing the shirt that's hanging down and getting in Kurt's way up – and getting a glorious view of Matt's delectable abs in the process – Kurt drags the flat of his tongue over Matt's dark length, positively covering it with spit. And if Kurt thought the sight was something to behold and obsess over, the taste is just the icing on the cake. 'Cause Matt? He's absolutely _delicious_, and if Kurt had any doubts whatsoever about being gay before they are definitely thrown out the window feeling Matt on his tongue.

He's this unbelievable mixture of salty and sweet, of musky and earthy and _sweat_. Most of all though he tastes of _man_, and it has Kurt turned on beyond comprehension. He can't believe he hasn't done this before, not when he's so utterly aroused and wanton just beginning to give somebody _else_ a blowjob. He can't believe he hasn't tried doing this with _Matt_ before.

Quick to abandon all thoughts of dragging this out and teasing the shy boy for all he's worth, Kurt is soon wrapping his lips around the head and sucking inch by wonderful inch of dick into his mouth, grateful that Matt is still only half hard when he actually manages to get more than half of it in his mouth before it begins to feel like too much – and even then does he push himself further. He opens his mouth wider and relaxes his non-existent gag-reflex and just _goes for it_. He works and tries and pushes himself to get all of it in, all the while hoping he will succeed before Matt has grown completely hard. Because he knows, he knows, that when he does, Kurt will be lucky to get two thirds of that thick meat in without choking.

He cries out joyfully when he brushes his nose against Matt's groin, swiftly pulling back and drawing in a well-earned chuck of air into his tormented lungs. It isn't long though before he's back to worshiping that cock though, listening to every breathy and magnificent groan that tumbles out of Matt's mouth to figure out what he likes the most.

Turns out apparently that the taller boy is rather fond of Kurt merely suckling at the head as he strokes the rest of it with deft fingers, since that makes Matt buck wildly as he swears loudly and buries his fingers in Kurt's hair. That doesn't particularly sit well with Kurt though as he wants to have more of it down his throat than just the head.

It doesn't matter how wonderful and velvety-smooth it is, he still wants more.

He makes sure to take special care to the protruding vein running over most of the underside of Matt's dick, lapping all over it – tracing it – as he sucks the cock in as deep as he can get it.

He's in heaven; exploring and obviously enjoying every single little thing about sucking cock, and even Kurt can tell it's like he was born to do it. He doesn't feel self-conscious in the least as he's there on his knees, instead he feels sexy beyond belief, and he's sure that in that very moment most of the scornful jocks at school might actually agree with him. He just feels so beautiful, and hot, and _pretty_ like this, like sucking dick is the absolute best thing he knows.

And right now? It sort of _is_.

At least it is until he can tell that Matt is plainly on the very brink of orgasm, then he remembers all the other things he wanted to do – all the things he wanted _Matt_ to do to _him_, and then he isn't all too pleased anymore.

Getting a vice-like grip of the thick length he rises from his knees, staring into Matt's wide-blown eyes wickedly and with a gentle purr tells Matt how things are going to be.

"If you want to come, take it." Kurt smirks, and leans closer, so close he can practically feel Matt's still lips against his own, before leaving and whispering against Matt's ear. "Take me."

With that he steps away, regretfully drops Matt's dick that moments earlier _jumped_ in his hand – he's sure of it – and saunters back to the bed and lays down, once again spreading his legs wide to show Matt just _how_ serious Kurt was with his invite.

"_Kurt_." It's declared reverently, like Matt still hasn't grasped it fully that Kurt is actually, truly there, spread out on his bed, waiting and horny, but when he does, he's quick to just _pounce_. He just attacks him, flipping him over – and holy Madonna if that blatant display of strength isn't arousing as _fuck_ – and after hastily getting the offered condom on, buries himself to the hilt in one swift stroke, both of them groaning out in unison because of it.

Kurt frantically tilts his ass up, offering himself completely, and is rewarded when Matt starts a harsh pace from the start, just pounding inside with little constraint. The rough and grueling friction Matt provides is amazing, and even more so when he finds that all important perfect angle and just _drills_ himself against it, Kurt's already high cries and pleads racketing up another notch.

He feels wild, like a carnal animal driven only by instinct, as he pushes his hips back and meets the stronger boy thrust for thrust, as his back arches impossibly towards the ceiling and he looses control of himself.

Kurt isn't even aware for a long time that they have both come, too lost in the thick cloud of absolute pleasure Matt had supplied him with. He isn't honestly sure if his own cock had needed any stimulation whatsoever for him to be able to come.

It wouldn't be the first time, he thinks sedately.

Behind him he can feel Matt pulling himself out of Kurt slowly, and he whines feeling that emptiness that he suddenly loathes. He wants the other teen back inside, and he has to make sure that'll happen sooner rather then later, but for now he only grumbles lowly.

There's a shift in the mattress when Matt lays down beside him, dragging Kurt's limp body against his own, cuddling him. Kurt feels safe there; it's warm and he feels protected. Other than his dad nobody has ever been able to make him feel like that, so Kurt sinks into the feeling happily.

He feels like he could stay there forever.

"Soo..." Kurt drags out, slurring his words slightly. "Star Wars sheets, huh?"

Matt blushes an adorable shade of red, and Kurt likes not being the one to do that for once. "Yeah... you saw that huh?"

"Mhmm. You should know I judge you now. Hard. But there's potential in you."

"Yeah?" Matt hums, nuzzling his nose into Kurt's soft but messed up hair.

"Yes. Some new sheets, and possibly a pair of tighter jeans and you'll pretty much be a dream come true." He sighs, burrowing down closer to Matt's bare chest, inhaling the lingering scent of sweat. "I can't wait 'til dinner tomorrow."

"Huh?" Matt asks confused. "What dinner?"

Kurt smiles. "You didn't think I would let you go after this, did you? You're taking me on a date to Breadstix tomorrow. Seven. Okay?"

He can feel Matt grin against his head, and he closes his eyes, enjoying the closeness between them.

"Okay."


	4. Quinn

**Pairing: Kurt/Quinn.**

**Prompt: Quinn sticks her were!penis in Kurt's BP.**

**Words: 6197**

**Kinks: Futunari, boypussy, handjob, blowjob, fingering, PIV, multiple orgasms, bareback.**

**AN: Remember the kinks that wouldn't be to everybody's liking? Here is where you'll find most of them. :) I like them however, even though I'm surprised at myself for how angsty I can write stuff sometimes...**

* * *

><p>Kurt is over at Mercedes' house when the long awaited snowstorm finally comes, though that doesn't exactly matter much to him since they've planned to have a little slumber party there anyway. And for once it isn't even just the two of them either, since also an eager Tina and a hesitant Quinn had showed up. Quinn mostly so because even though she had only lived with them for a few weeks she didn't want to spend yet another night at Puck's house being forced to listen to his mother complain about her not being Jewish, but she had been more than welcome to Mercedes' anyway. Santana and Brittany however had refused, saying they had other obligations ("Yeah, Santana's gonna give me some lady kisses," a bouncing Brittany had continued before Santana had managed to slap a hand over her mouth), and Rachel had been out of town with her fathers, something which most currently present sighed at happily when they heard.<p>

They've been laying around Mercedes' room for the past few hours just gossiping and having fun and watching some movies, bowls of snacks spread all around them. Kurt and Tina are sharing a bunch of pillows on the floor while Mercedes and Quinn have taken residence of the bed.

The storm itself hasn't changed anything really, well, other than that they're now completely alone in the house for the whole night as Mercedes' parents and younger brother had been visiting some friends a few streets over when the storm hit and wouldn't risk going out into the blizzard. They had been told however to be responsible and not do anything stupid. And really, they were having a slumber party, what could happen?

They're in the middle of their third movie when Quinn suddenly pales and hurries out of the door saying she needs to go to the bathroom. Kurt is the only one that seems to notice, but even he pays it no mind as this is quite a common occurrence at school. Despite only being halfway into her pregnancy Quinn seems to already be rushing to the bathroom every half hour, always complaining about her bladder. It's only when she's been gone for fifteen minutes that Kurt begins to worry about her.

After nervously checking the door every other second for the past few minutes Kurt finally stands up. "I'm going to check on her," he tells the girls, but they're deep into an argument about some of the guys at school and doesn't respond other than waving dismissively at him.

He rolls his eyes at them as he walks out the door and down the hall.

"Quinn?" he asks quietly, knocking on the bathroom door before leaning his forehead against the wood. "Are you okay?"

He can hear some muted sniffling going on inside, making his heart clench. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Quinn answers, but the thing is, Kurt can hear the sob in her voice and it doesn't calm him one bit.

"Are you sure?" he questions.

"...N-no." Kurt can hear her break down on the other side of the door.

Kurt reaches down and rattles the door handle, but of course it's locked. "Can you let me in Quinn?" he pleads, needing to get in. "Please," he whispers quietly as another sob sounds from inside. He can hear her cry as he tries time and time again to get her to open the door; he pleads, he wheedles, he does everything in his might but she doesn't do anything but cry. Finally he sags against the door and slides down to the floor, leaning against it on his side with his palm flat against the wood. "Please," he begs one final time before falling silent, just listening to her heaving sobs.

* * *

><p>Kurt isn't sure exactly how long he sits there silently, but he can hear how the former cheerleader slowly calms down and stops crying. They sit there for a long time even after that too, just listening to the other one's breathing from their side of the door.<p>

Suddenly Kurt can hear the door click, and he scrambles quickly to sit up as the door opens and a rather disheveled Quinn is revealed. There are tear tracks running from her red-rimmed eyes down her cheeks – which Kurt had expected – and her hair is a mess. She's holding herself tightly, as if scared to fall apart again at any second.

All in all it is a rather pitiful sight, one that makes Kurt scurry to his feet in a heartbeat and bring the small girl into his arms without a moments notice. He hugs her tight to him, mindful of the small bump of her stomach, and sharing his warmth as he whispers quietly into her ear. "It's okay, it's okay, everything's going to be fine, okay? Everything will be just fine."

Her thin arms wraps around his back and he can feel her clinging on to him tightly as she shakes in his hold. She doesn't cry, apparently run out of tears, but when he draws back and looks at her he can see the plain misery painted across her face.

"What's going on Quinn?" he asks worriedly, stroking his thumbs over her wet cheeks and drying the still remaining tear tracks away from her skin.

She only shakes her head in response, glancing back the occupied room behind her. Understanding that she doesn't want either of the two girls to know whatever caused her to break down Kurt grabs her small hand in his and walks them back to their friends room and pokes his head in, telling them that he and Quinn will be absent from their gathering for awhile longer but that they shouldn't worry. Only when finished does he notice the soft snores echoing through the room, and he rolls his eyes watching Tina lay sprawled out on top of Mercedes, her head resting in the crease of the older girl's thigh and stomach as she smacks her mouth in her sleep.

Kurt closes the door behind them and walks confidently towards one of the closed doors down the hall, knowing from numerous sleepovers in this house that it's the guest room. Pulling the fair girl in with him he leads her towards the bed there, making her sit down beside him before drawing her against his chest and petting her hair soothingly as he murmurs against the top of her head.

"It's all okay Quinn, okay? Everything's fine. Everything's just fine. Will you just please tell me what's going on?"

"I'm just being stupid," she mumbles out, hiding further into his pajama shirt and digging her fingers into the fabric. "It's really nothing."

"You're not stupid Quinn," Kurt tells her quietly, hugging her to him. "And I'm sure that it isn't just 'nothing', not when it made you break down like that."

"It's not like it's even the first time this has happened to me," she mutters frustratedly, "I've dealt with this for years now, I don't even know why I started crying like that today of all times."

Kurt has no idea what she's talking about, because what she's saying makes absolutely no sense, but he presses a kiss to the top of her head and waits patiently for her to continue.

It takes a few minutes of rubbing his hands up and down her cotton clad back before the words seem to spill out of her mouth, but once she starts there is no stopping her, and Kurt finds himself struggling to keep up with what she's telling him. Or more like rambling at him.

"M-my mother says – well, said – that it's something that runs in the family, this _thing_ that keeps happening to me. I was- I guess I was about eight the first time she told me about it, but then I was just too young to even understand what she was even talking about – not that I understand it that much nowadays either – but I was... eleven? I think, when it happened to me for the first time, and I remember panicking and screaming and crying and being so afraid of what was happening, of what was going on. And when my mother found me I was just- I was crying and I was bleeding from where I had scratched myself trying to claw this sudden _thing_ away from me. She explained it to me again then, and she calmed me down and made me understand it... or at least she made me accept it I guess."

She takes a deep breath, shifting slightly in my hold, her baby bump dragging against my stomach as she moves.

"It hasn't really happened since I got pregnant- which I guess was because of the stress? Or something, I don't know. I didn't even expect for it to happen again until I gave birth, but then I felt it happening in there, with all of you around me, and... and I just lost it. I panicked," she finishes drying a stray tear off her cheek.

Kurt still doesn't understand a thing about what she has said. He guesses it could be something about her period? But that doesn't make sense, even McKinley's – mediocre at best – temporary sex ed lessons have taught him that pregnant women doesn't have them. And hadn't Quinn mentioned that this whole thing apparently runs in her family?

"I- I'm afraid I don't understand," Kurt quietly says against her hair, wincing when she sighs distressingly. He watches as she shakes her head to herself, obviously debating about something in her head before resolutely grabbing his hands and shoving it against her own crotch. At first Kurt is disgusted, expecting to feel her vagina against his fingers through her pants.

But he doesn't. Instead it's a very, _very_ familiar sensation meeting the palm of his hands.

"Q-Quinn..." he exhales confusedly. "I-is that..?"

"Yeah," she breathes shakily.

"H-how..?" Kurt struggles to comprehend.

"Like I said, I'm not sure. But this usually happens about once a month. Or at least it does under normal circumstances. Not that _any of this_ can be considered normal though," she chuckles deprecatingly at herself.

And while she's right about this not being all that 'normal' – because of, well, obvious reasons – Kurt can't help but sympathize with her. She isn't the only one of them not being 'normal', she isn't the only one of them to carry a secret. Only, she has told him her secret, could he even bring himself to tell her his? Only his father knew about it, and unlike Quinn's... abnormality, or whatever, his never disappeared. His secret wasn't just a monthly thing, it was a _daily_ thing, a daily struggle to make sure no body found out.

Most people thought he avoided the locker rooms while anybody else occupied it because of the verbal abuse he suffered every time he would enter it, and while that was all true there was a second reason too. A much greater reason. He was deathly afraid of anybody finding out about what he was hiding beneath his covering clothes, afraid of the humiliation it would cause if they discovered his most hidden secret.

That was also why he always wore layers upon layers of clothes, because they made him feel more protected.

But Quinn could understand. Maybe.

"Q-Quinn," Kurt began nervously, swallowing repeatedly to try and dissipate the lump in his throat. "I-if I told you something about me, would you swear to never say anything about it? To anyone? Not even Mercedes or Tina?"

She looks up at him curiously, and she nods slowly once, twice. Kurt takes a deep breath and wonders how he could possibly tell her about this. And the truth is, that he can't. There are no words that could explain this. But, just like Quinn had done to tell him about her condition, maybe he could tell her through touch.

"Uhm," he hums, and swallows. "Um, can I borrow your hand?" He winces at his own ragged voice; nothing of his usual soft and melodic countertenor voice is left, instead replaced by a deep _grumble_ that sounds weird and unfamiliar to his own ears.

Grasping the hand that is offered to him he slowly brings it against the v between his legs, bypassing the small bump and pressing her hand against the skin below it. He can hear her hum questioningly, but he can't look at her as he lets her touch, instead keeping his eyes tightly shut as he exhales with a tremble. He can feel her press firmer against him, and the soft gasp of understanding beside him makes a single tear fall down his cheek, but then thin yet strong arms are wrapped around him, and he embraces and returns the comfort it supplies.

"You too?" he can hear her whisper, a hint of hope in her wobbly voice.

"Yes, just... not just once a month. _Always_." This is the first time he's told anybody, and it feels good to have it out there, the secret that has kept him up during more sleepless nights than the one of him being gay ever has.

But now it's out there; someone out in the real world now knows that he not only has a dick like all other guys, he has a vagina as well. Quinn could utterly and completely _destroy_ him with this, though he feels like he can trust her, just like she felt she could trust him, and it feels _good. _So, _so_ good.

* * *

><p>Hours pass without them leaving that guest room; instead they lie in that bed side by side, trading secrets and other tidbits about themselves. Their fears, their joys – everything is discussed now that they already know the most deepest, darkest secret the other one has.<p>

Quinn tells him about how she had gotten a nose job when the bullying in middle school had gotten so bad she couldn't take it anymore, she tells him about how she's scared every day for ending up just as unpopular as she was back then and she tells him about worries regarding the baby – whether she should keep her or not – and in return he tells her about his mother, and about being gay in a town like Lima, and about his dreams of one day leaving this town and going to New York, or Los Angeles, or anywhere that wasn't Lima really.

"What's a male orgasm like?" she asks him when they have fallen silent late into the night. When he glances over at her, chocked at the question, she is pointedly keeping her eyes averted from his. "Is it anything like a female one?"

Kurt stares back up at the white ceiling, his cheeks warm and most probably the shade of a tomato. "I wouldn't know what it feels like in comparison." He can feel her eyes zeroing in on his profile. "Haven't tried having a female orgasm," he elaborates, feeling like a baby penguin talking about it.

"What? Why?" Quinn asks, leaning onto her elbow, facing him more fully, curiosity clear in her voice.

"I guess..." he hesitates, wondering what he should say to explain it. "It just feels so _wrong_. Like I shouldn't have this thing there, and if feels so weird every time I just try to feel it. I always give up after a few seconds, when I can't handle it any longer." He bites his tongue, and turns over on his side so they can look into each other eyes. "And I guess you haven't tried having the... the male... orgasm... either," he ends lamely, blushing profusely.

She blushes too, and rolls back onto her back, her hands resting on the bump on her stomach, caressing it. "I don't know. I don't have the courage to I suppose. Like you said, it feels weird having this extra thing on your body, and it gets awkward trying to do anything with it when it shouldn't even be there in the first place."

It's quiet after that, only the sound of their breathing breaking the complete and utter silence in the room. And unlike all the other times they've both been silent for a stretch of time that night it doesn't feel comfortable, this time it feels awkward. Very awkward.

For a long while Kurt just lie there, biting his lip trying to figure out something to say that can break the awkward tension between them, something that can get them back into the easy banter of before. Unfortunately he draws a blank.

"Would you help me?" Quinn blurts out eventually, her eyes tightly shut when he looks over at her.

"With... what exactly?" he asks wondrously.

"The male orgasm. Will you help me have one?" she practically shouts out, before covering her face with her hands, and he can hear her muttering behind them. He can't hear her words, they're spoken far too low for that, but he can guess what is said. 'Why did I ask that?!' and 'What is wrong with you?!' are the two at the forefront of the millions of things she's most likely murmuring angrily at herself.

And why wouldn't she, he asks himself, she just asked him to help her have an orgasm. Him, the boy she hasn't said ten words to prior to this night. Him, that despite being asked to help her having a male orgasm through her _penis_, is still very much gay, and thus shouldn't be interested in helping her with this. Him, who is virginal and shy and can't talk about sex to save his life. Him, who despite all of this and several more reasons telling him not to do this, is still thinking about accepting...

"I'll do it," he hears himself saying, even though he still hasn't made his mind up yet. He doesn't have the time to panic though before her big, wet eyes are directed at him, so he forces himself to smile at her gently, calmly.

"What?" she asks, tilting her head confusedly.

"I'll do it," he repeats. "I'll help you. Gaga knows I have absolutely no clue if I will be of any help – I probably won't – but I'll try. That counts for something right?" he smiles at her again.

"Really? You'll help me?" She asks incredulously. Then her eyes turns to thin slits, staring at him suspiciously. "Why?"

He shrugs his shoulders. He really has no idea himself why he agreed to do this, and so easily too. Maybe it's so he'll know what to do when an eventual boyfriend pops into the picture, maybe it's so he won't feel so insecure and virginal whenever the subject of sex comes up. Maybe it's something entirely different. Kurt really has no idea.

"I don't know," he tells her honestly. "But I want to help you with this, and does the reason why really matter in the end?"

"I guess not," she concedes. "So... we're actually doing this?"

"We're actually doing this," he confirms, smiling so greatly he's showing off all of his teeth in the process, beginning to feel rather giddy about the prospect of what is happening. He knows she's a girl – with girl plumbing and all, there really is no way getting around that – but he's there to help with something that's considered quite _male_ in the end. He's about to see his first real-life _cock_ ever, about to _touch _one that isn't his own, and Kurt can't help but feel excited, yet simultaneously nervous about it.

"I suppose I should just... undress I guess," Quinn says, shaking her head at herself, giggling quietly. Kurt giggles too, feeling like he's five years old and about to engage in a rather one-sided game of 'you show me yours, I'll show you mine'.

He can hear Quinn shuffle out of her pajama pants beside him, and taking a deep breath he turns towards her, staring into her eyes until she laughs at him and gives him permission to look, reminding him that it is kind of the point of the whole thing. So, trailing his gaze down her body he finally catches sight of this thing that has Quinn so ashamed and afraid, yet has him mesmerized from the first look.

She's still soft, but he can already tell that she's longer than himself, but not quite as thick though and he would be jealous had he not been so entranced by her. Below it is her vagina, but Kurt chooses to just ignore that – he wasn't supposed to do anything with that anyway so he doesn't even feel guilty about it.

Looking back at her momentarily, his hand hovering uncertainly in the air between them, he asks her silently once again for permission, and when she nods he's quick to take her in his palm, just getting a feel for it first. Then he's moving his hand, slowly, up, up, up, dragging her foreskin over the tip, and then down, down, down, pulling it back into place. Kurt can already feel small trickles of blood filling the length in his hand, and the thought makes himself harden too – he ignores the small dribble from his vagina though.

He's the one causing this, making Quinn do this. Him.

Regretfully retreating his hand Kurt brings his hand to his mouth, and laps over it with slow, broad strokes, getting it as wet as possible before letting his hand wrap around her once more. This time the glide is easier, and as he strokes her time and time again he can feel her grow and harden under his touch.

It's heading, he realizes, knowing he's the sole cause that this is happening, that he can have such control over another person. It's empowering, filling him with so much confidence it almost makes him burst with it. With _pride_.

He hasn't really taken notice of it before, but above him the blonde girl is already panting harshly – she isn't even fully hard yet! - and scrambling to take hold of the comforter with her long fingers.

"What?" she asks, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes when he just stares at her, mouth wide open and his grip on her slowed to a stop. "It feels good okay. Like, really, _really_ good." He can't stop staring at her, not able to think anything beyond 'I did that' and internally jumping around like a little school girl. "Shut up," she laughs and apparently he talks without knowing it now too.

He blushes, finally managing to drag his eyes away from her, instead zeroing his eyes back onto the task at, well, hand. The saliva has gone dry though, so once again he licks across his palm, wetting it more than before, and goes back to teasingly stroking her length.

It's not long before he's stroking her dry again though, and he huffs out irritatedly. It would be so much better with lube, he knows. Spit just doesn't work out for any greater length of time.

But maybe-

"Quinn?" he asks nervously. "Can I suck you?"

It's something he's thought about a lot back at home, back in his bed, masturbating while thinking about kneeling before what's by now countless men. Fantasizing about licking them, about taking them deep, about swallowing them dry when they come.

Thinking about doing this with Quinn isn't as ridiculous as it should be, instead it's surprisingly hot, making his mouth water quickly.

"Yeah," she breathes out strangled and high, her head thrown back as his fingers dance over her hard length. "Yes, yes, please do that, yes."

Kurt's close to laughing when hearing the girl – known as Queen Bitch by most – practically pleading. He's able to stave it off though, sure it wouldn't be appreciated, only allowing a small smile to cross his lips.

He does what she asks for though; crawling his way over so he's kneeling between her legs instead of beside her, and slowly, slowly bringing his mouth down to lap his tongue all the way from the base of her dick up to her tip, licking up the small trace of precum resting in the slit there. She tastes... admittedly strange – he isn't prone to licking anything off his own hands once he's come, so this is the first time he's actually tasted a penis, or anything coming from one – but also rather... addictive? he guesses. She's salty, and musky, and, well, not _male_, but not something he would consider _female_ either. It's a good mix though, one he could imagine himself tasting over and over again.

She smells nice too, he notices when he noses at her base, inhaling the scent there. There's a distinctive female scent, some sort of perfume, but it's mixed with a bit of strawberry and something musky. It makes his head spin wonderfully.

Above him he can hear Quinn give out little 'ah, ah, ah's', and they fill him with confidence to wrap his lips around her crown, sucking her in gently and allowing his tongue to delve around the flesh in his mouth. At this Quinn howls, unused as she is to these sensations, and Kurt can feel how she is already close to coming. And while he wants her to come in his mouth, it's much, much to soon, so he lets her fall out of his mouth and clamps his fingers round her base, needing to make it last longer.

He apologizes by mouthing at her thighs, sucking and nibbling at the skin there as he waits for her to calm down. His chin accidentally bumps against her vagina, and he can feel how wet she is, just like he is himself, but he refuses to think about it, and moves up a bit so he can kiss at her hipbones.

It's minutes later that Quinn mumbles that she's okay, and he's quick to returning his focus to her dick. He's cautious of swallowing her down this time, so he only mouths at her instead; lapping and kissing at her stretched flesh. There's a vein running down the underside of her cock, and he fallows it reverently with the tip of his tongue, making her breath hitch.

And then, finally, does he close his mouth around her again, and he moans at the way his mouth feels full, at the way his lips stretch to accommodate her. She moans too – or, well, she cries out – trying to buck her hips upwards, but he stops her, mindful of her baby bump.

He soon figures out he can't quite take quite all of her in. Not for lack of trying anyway. But he doesn't mind. He hasn't expected to be this magical expert at this, and despite all the jokes floating around the school he does have a very existing gag-reflex that really doesn't help matters. Instead he bobs his head around the bit he can while letting his hand wrap around the rest, his fingers and lips meeting every time he swallows her down.

He has tried not to pay attention to the situation in his own pants yet though, but feeling Quinn filling his mouth so perfectly makes him ache so bad. The worst thing though? It's not his dick that's hurting.

Pulling off with an obscene 'pop' Kurt pants quietly, his eyes darting between Quinn's eyes and her dick as his minds runs in circles.

"Quinn," he whines shutting his eyes tight, grating his teeth feeling how wet he is. "Would you... would you maybe..."

"What?" she asks breathily when he falls silent.

"...Fuck me?" he whispers, feeling unexplainably ashamed for wanting it as bad as he does. It's just, he feels so _empty_, and like he _needs it_ so bad, like it hurts and aches so much he isn't able to breathe without it.

He has never, _ever_, felt like that before.

When Quinn doesn't answer immediately he wonders if he maybe went to far asking for this, if she's disgusted by him now for wanting that. He wonders if she thinks he's pathetic, wonders if she thinks he's everything everybody accuses him of being. Of being gross, and weak, and womanly.

His head spins, worrying about every possible negative thing she could be thinking about him right then, scared for what she'll say. Kurt is just about to apologize for even saying something in the first place when a breathy, low word shakes him to the core.

"...Okay."

After that everything happens so quickly. Kurt hardly notices when his pajamas are shed, when Quinn's top is thrown across the room. And while he does notice when Quinn begins touching and stretching his until now untouched vagina, he's lost in a hazy fog of lust and pleasure to really take in what is happening. All he can really feel is how that ache of being empty and needing is being replaced by feelings of being so unbelievably full and, well he supposes he still feels needy. For more, that is.

"Kurt," he can hear Quinn murmuring through the thick mist that is his mind. "I don't suppose you have a condom do you?"

He chuckles at that, before breaking off with a moan when her nimble fingers graze across something that feels absolutely _wonderful_. "Don't need one," he grates out between clenched teeth, his face scrunched up in the pleasure that's coursing through his body at the moment. "Can't get pregnant. Don't have a uterus."

And isn't that just the icing on the cake really? He's been cursed with this thing – this vagina, this _pussy_ – that he has had absolutely no enjoyment of whatsoever until now, yet he has no uterus to couple it with, so it's utterly and perfectly _useless_. He can't get pregnant, he can't bare children despite having it, and it will probably make all future boys and men run away from him screaming. They will be expecting him to have a dick. Not a dick _and_ a pussy. So yeah, icing on the cake.

"Oh... Well, good." And then Quinn is drawing her fingers out of him. He clenches around her trying to keep her inside, and whines when it doesn't work. Though he doesn't complain for long, because then there's this sudden pressure against his opening, and soon there's something pressing _into_ him.

It hurts, it fucking hurts. Kurt's alternatively gasping for breath and letting out pained yelps with each little inch that she's pushing inside. But at the same time, the stretch is arousing beyond comprehension. The knowledge of being filled – of being taken – is heading, and it's arousing, and it's so god damned pleasurable he feels like fainting because of it.

And then she's in, in as far as she can go, and Kurt let's out a breath of relief, finally allowing his muscles to relax and adjust around the intrusion.

Quinn is staring into his eyes, an unreadable expression on her face and Kurt is about to ask what's wrong when she leans down, and kisses him, square on the mouth.

"Wha..." he gulps when she breaks away, staring at her incredulously.

"Felt wrong to take your virginity without kissing you first," she shrugs, and then draws her hip back only to push herself in again, and Kurt scrambles to grab hold of something, anything, to ground himself. The drag and pull isn't exactly _pleasurable_, not yet, but it isn't exactly hurting anymore either. It's just there.

But he's getting wetter, droplets of _something_ making the slide easier, and more enjoyable, and soon he's moaning and panting appreciatively with every little buck that Quinn does inside. His hips are twitching by their own free will, lifting upwards and meeting her with every thrust, welcoming her.

Suddenly she pulls out, and Kurt whines, and complains, and threatens her if she _'doesn't get back in right that second'_!

She only shakes her head. "This isn't working, the baby's in the way," is the only thing she says.

"Okay, fine," he hisses. "So how do you want me then?"

She thinks momentarily, tapping her finger against her chin thoughtfully. "On your hands and knees I think. That will probably work better."

He narrows his eyes, but doesn't say anything, only turns around and tucks his knees under him, pushing his ass against her. "Satisfied?" he asks when she laughs at him, squealing before glaring at her when she slaps one of his cheeks.

"Yeah, I think this will _definitely_ work." She's looking far too happy, but Kurt so doesn't care at all when she sinks back inside him, and he just falls down onto his elbows and bows his head down, moaning at the delicious new angle she enters him in. He's surprised by how much _better_ it feels doing it this way, like she's hitting places inside him that he never knew existed, places that makes tingles shoot through his entire body.

It isn't long before he's begging; begging for harder, for faster, for deeper. He's pleading like there's no tomorrow, heedless of how needy and _slutty_ it makes him sound. None of that matters, not when Quinn does exactly what he's asking for, not when he feels so astoundingly good.

He's surprised when this unfamiliar feeling rushes up on him; he is most definitely _not_ expecting it, and it feels like he's exploding when it all hits him and he bites his lip until it bleed to keep from crying out like there's no tomorrow, mindful that there are other people in the house besides them.

There's white spots before his vision, and he trembles, squeezing erratically around Quinn who is pushing into him a few times more before burying herself as far in as she can possibly get. He can absently feel her shooting her load into her depths; can distantly feel how squishy and amazingly wet he is when she pulls herself out and falls down beside him.

"What was _that_?" he asks disbelievingly a few minutes later when he's calmed down, his chest not heaving as much as before.

"_That_," Quinn starts, staring wondrously at the ceiling, "was a female orgasm Kurt. And I, I had a male one."

She giggles, then quiets down and looks over at him, before giggling again. Kurt can't help but join in, and soon they're outright howling with laughter.

It's only when they manage to quiet down that Kurt notices he's still hard, and now that his vagina isn't throbbing like it had earlier his dick is aching just as much, if not more, than his pussy had before.

Not caring if Quinn is getting an eyeful or not he reaches down and grasps himself in his hand, only stroking himself hard with a quick flick of his wrist at the top like he likes, a dozen or so times before erupting all over his hand and stomach, so incredibly sensitive because of how long his erection has been left alone. Feeling sated and loose Kurt brings his hand up and leisurely licks the come off his hand, sucking every digit into his mouth to make sure they're sufficiently clean, finding that tonight is a good night to try out various firsts.

"I bet that felt good," Quinn teases beside him, and Kurt can't help but laugh.

"Yeah, it did," he nods sagely, dropping his hand to his bare stomach. "If you want I could help you too," he offers, feeling generous now that he's come twice in a short span of time. He's feeling boneless and ecstatic enough not to care that he's offering to take care of her decidedly more feminine side, it honestly doesn't matter anymore.

Besides, he could use the practice now that he knows how good it can feel.

"Naw, I think I'm good," she giggles.

"I think I might have to buy a vibrator now," Kurt admits. "Your fault," he accuses, pointing at Quinn.

"What?" she cries with laughter. "How is that my fault?!"

Kurt shrugs. "You started this, thus it's your fault."

She only hums in return.

"That good huh?"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>They don't return to Mercedes' bedroom until far into the morning; the sun has already started to rise high into the sky when they stumble inside, having spent the rest of the night talking some more. And despite teasing each other about it they haven't gone for a round two, though they did promise they would go to each other if the need rose again.<p>

In the end they only get half an hour or so of sleep before Tina wakes them up, but they don't care. The night they just had was way too good to regret


	5. Brody

**Pairing: Kurt/Brody.**

**Prompt: Top and hung Brody, BP Kurt. Consensual, not cheating, not a one night stand. Only usual kinks (oral, PIV, fingering) are okay.**

**Words: 3725**

**Kinks: Fingering, boypussy, oral, 69, PIV, multiple orgasms.**

* * *

><p>"...Remind me again why we're putting up the Christmas tree already. It's like, weeks, until Christmas. And it's only eight in the morning, we could still be in bed, sleeping, like regular folks," Brody asked carrying yet another box of decorations into the living room where Kurt was twiddling with the branches of the tree and making them lie just right as he waited for his boyfriend of almost a year now to get back with the glitter and baubles.<p>

"Because," Kurt dragged out exasperatedly yet excitedly, rolling his eyes and fixing his bangs like he always did when he was just slightly frustrated, knowing this would be the fifth time he explained the same thing in under an hour. "It's tradition. Now get over here and help me with the baubles. And remember to keep similar colors away from each other, otherwise it will get tacky and I'll have to start all over again."

He could hear the older man behind him bringing the many boxes closer, but Kurt had already snatched one of the many containers up and begun ruffling inside it for the decoration inside.

"You already explained that," he heard Brody say as he walked up beside him with a small box of his own in his hand, "but I don't get what's so special about it. I guess, I just want to understand, that's all."

Kurt bit his lip in slight anxiety as he hung up the bright red bauble on the tree before him, thinking about what he would say. It had been years since he had felt the need to explain why he did things so specifically when it came to Christmas, and when it came to the Christmas tree especially. Then it had been Carole and Finn that had wanted to know when the noise had roused them from sleep, and were surprised to finding him up at nine in the morning and almost finished with decorating the tree. His father had only greeted his good morning when passing him only half an hour earlier that day, used to the proceedings by that point.

"...It's just..." Kurt murmured, lost in memories. "My mother loved Christmas," he finally acknowledges. "It was her favorite holiday, and she loved all things about it. Decorating the house and the tree in particular. She owned boxes upon boxes of different kinds of decorations; small china Santa Clause's, angels, themed lanterns... you name it, she had it.

Every day in the beginning of December she would spend her free time bringing out box after box and decorate our home with it, making everything look so festive and joyful and _perfect_. Sometimes she would let me help, with the things that were less prone to breaking – I was rather clumsy in my younger years, I wasn't very coordinated until ballet lessons when I was five... _shut up_! – and together we would be so, _so _happy. We'd laugh, and dance to Christmas songs, singing along to them as we made the house look stunning together.

And every year on the fifth she'd go out before I could wake up and buy a Christmas tree, so that the moment I woke up we could just... dress it together."

At last Kurt brings his eyes up from the golden bauble in his hands, one of many, many that reminds him of his mother, and look into the golden browns of the man beside him. He knows his eyes are shining slightly from tears, but they aren't necessarily sad. Not entirely anyway.

"I was six when Mom got cancer, but it didn't really make a difference those first few years, but when I was eight... let's just say she couldn't help me with the decorating that year from the hospital bed. But I woke up like usual, and I begged my father to take me out and buy us a Christmas tree anyway, so that when she would come home it would be there, and we could finally dress it together, like always." Kurt feels his boyfriend's hand reach for his own, so he takes it and squeezes it, letting Brody know he's alright. Somewhat, at least. "She never came home, and that year- that year the tree remained green through the holidays. After that I have just done it by myself. Dad tried to help me those first years but it just didn't feel right."

He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the tree, hanging up the golden ornament. "That's why I insisted on doing it today. At eight in the morning." Suddenly he feels guilty, knowing his boyfriend always worked late hours even after doing his shows nowadays to get some days off work for Christmas. "But if you want to go back to bed you can, you know? I don't actually need you here with me, I just thought it would be... nice," he finish lamely, feeling ridiculous. Of course Brody hadn't actually wanted to help, he had probably just done it because Kurt had begged him to. What was wrong with him, why couldn't he just-

Suddenly Brody was hugging him, embracing him into his strong arms and holding him tightly. And Kurt just fell into it, the empty box in his hands falling to the ground as he threw his arms around his boyfriend's neck and buried his face in his chest.

Kurt couldn't tell you how long they stood there exactly, but he could tell it was a while, because he could see the sun rising over the buildings outside of the windows, casting their living room in a glow of soft yellow and orange. He nuzzled his face into the crook of his boyfriend's neck and inhaled his scent, sighing softly.

"I love you," he mumbled quietly, not wanting to disrupt the serene atmosphere, but wanting it said anyway.

"Love you too," Brody whispered into his ear, making him smile happily, and they broke away from each other. Giggling lightly they turned back to the many boxes they were to unpack and got to work. Luckily Kurt had managed to get the entire day off from Vogue, just like the year before and the year before that, and he didn't have any classes that day. Not any important ones anyway.

And Brody – who had gotten work in an off-Broadway production of Guys and Dolls the previous year – didn't have to be present for work until six at the earliest, meaning they had the entire day to get everything to Kurt's standards.

That didn't mean they couldn't have fun doing so though.

In between seriously hanging up different colored baubles and glitter and a myriad of lights Brody had managed to chase Kurt around the entire apartment, threatening to decorate him with the gaudy reindeer horns that had been obviously placed in the wrong box when packing everything down the year before – probably by Rachel – to the gleeful cries and howls of laughter from both men equally. Kurt had also captured the taller man with a long string of glitter, refusing to release him unless Brody provided him with kisses, something the tanned man happily gave in plenty. They'd also dug out one glass each of Kurt's homemade – heavily spiked – eggnog, which Brody took in stride without showing any signs of the alcohol hitting him but that made Kurt just a hint looser around the edges and more prone to giggling like a madman.

At least he stopped nagging Brody whenever he placed a bauble incorrectly on the tree after that. The older man counted that a win.

It wasn't long after that that only one item remained to be placed upon the now tastefully dressed tree – the star going on the top of it.

But when Kurt tried to reach up to do the honorable task, trying and failing to stand on his tippy toes when there were a few lacking inches for him to be able to reach completely, he almost fell and crashed into the huge spruce instead. So, grumbling quietly at his own shortage in length – and those sips of alcohol – Kurt agreed with his boyfriend's suggestion to let him do it, only cuddling up to his strong back and burying his nose in Brody's shirt instead.

Breathing in the familiar scent before him – a lovely mixture of sandalwood and honey – Kurt felt the strong muscles of the taller man stretch and ripple under his caressing hands and against his chest as Brody reached up to place the star on top. And as always when feeling these muscles play below his exploring touch Kurt felt a small surge of heat running through his veins, supplying his brain with wonderful visions of countless other things those muscles could do.

To him specifically.

Pressing himself flat against the other man Kurt leant up and began to mouth at his boyfriend's delicious neck, suckling and nibbling at the skin and sweeping quick strokes across the twitching flesh with the flat of his tongue to soothe it. He let his hands wander from their placement around the older man's waist down under the shirt to feel his way up the strong abs hidden underneath the fabric, humming happily at the feel of Brody's breath hitching.

"Hmm, Kurt? Not that I don't like what's going on, but shouldn't we clean the living room up before potentially spending the rest of our day in bed?" Brody said, indicating the numerous boxes strewn about the floor and other spaces around the room. Kurt only bit into the flesh below his boyfriend's ear, tugging the skin into his mouth and starting to suck. "O-kay, never mind then," Brody breathed, turning around and slinging Kurt over his shoulder. Kurt in turn shrieked happily, yet flailed his limbs trying to get down the whole way to their bedroom, in which he was promptly dropped onto the soft bed.

Pouting Kurt looked at the older man sternly, but couldn't hold the grin in long, instead starting to shed his clothes at lightning speed.

Soon they were attached at the lips; their clothes thrown all over the room – one of Kurt's shirts even hanging from the ceiling lamp. Their hands were pawing all over the other as their tongues dueled for dominance, naked flesh being grasped and kneaded passionately as well as their hair being grabbed and mussed up beyond recognition. They were both panting for breath each and every time they surfaced for air, only to soon being dragged back into another mauling kiss by the other.

Kurt loved this, loved being so animalistic and wild in bed. That wasn't to say he didn't love the slower and gentler times when he and Brody made love, for he did, but there was simply something about being rough that had his blood running hotly and his mind struggling to comprehend anything beyond the cloudy fog that would overtake him. There was something about just letting go and giving in to every little desire his body had.

He could clearly feel the other man's arousal against his own center of wet, agonizing heat; could feel the thick length pressing against him, could feel it growing even harder against him, and it made his mouth water instantly, hungry for feeling it inside.

"I want to blow you," he begged hotly against his lover's bruised skin, shivering when Brody dragged his fingers down his spine and sending sparks of lust through his body. "Please."

"Yeah, sure, we can do that," Brody promised, crowding him closer and delving his tongue back inside his mouth quickly, tasting him. "Actually..." Brody dragged out, smiling devilishly at Kurt, making Kurt tremble pleasantly.

Kurt could feel himself being picked up and turned around so he was straddling his lover instead of the other way around, only he was facing the older man's feet instead of his face. It took him a few moments to connect the pieces together, but when he did a large smile spread across his face, and he instantly nuzzled his face down where his love's musky scent was the strongest, just inhaling the heady smell.

He could feel strong hands on his thighs dragging him backwards and spreading him out, two fingers straight off moving against his wet folds and past them, showing him off to his boyfriend. Sparks shot up his spine and he whined when they grazed his clit, and even more so when they began rubbing it between them.

Intent on not being the only one falling apart Kurt nosed his way from the crease of the bigger man's thigh over to the thick base of his lover's huge cock, his tongue darting out to taste him. It was absolutely delicious, as always, and Kurt dragged his tongue all over the large shaft before him; his thin and nimble fingers almost able to completely wrap around the length to hold it steady as he mouthed at it.

Moans tumbled out of his throat and vibrated against the length he was kissing at hungrily when he could feel Brody's finger entering his tight hole at the same time as the tall man began to lap his way up his slit, all of his flowing juices being devoured by the ravenous mouth worshiping him.

They had perfected this particular act early on in their relationship, and nowadays they would mostly focus on trying to outdo the other one and/or making the other one come embarrassingly fast. Hence why Kurt moments after wrapping his lips around the bulbous head sank down as far as possible, swallowing for all he was worth to try and make his boyfriend come down his throat, but as usual it was all in vein. Brody usually won their little game, not because he was particularly good at holding off his own orgasm, but because Kurt was extremely sensitive and could come from the bare minimum of touches. Having two attentive fingers stroking his inner walls dotingly while a very talented mouth worked his clit was practically cheating and his boyfriend knew it, but continued on anyway.

It wasn't long before Kurt gurgled against the heavy cock in his mouth, his eyes scrunching up as he came, and he had to break away from Brody or else he might harm him from how badly he needed to clench his teeth together from the force of the orgasm.

Sagging down against his boyfriend's strong thigh he could only weakly mouth at the base of Brody's length as he calmed his rushing heart, his fingers trembling from how hard he'd just come.

His boyfriend was just too good with his tongue and fingers for his own good.

Above him – or, well, technically _below him –_ he could feel Brody chuckle at his limp form that lay sprawled all over the muscled man, before feeling himself being lifted and placed back against the soft pillows.

'Gaga, those muscles would be the death of him, weren't they?' Kurt wondered when he could feel a trickle of his own juices dripping from him at the blatant display of strength, already back to being turned on beyond belief. His weakness and obvious appreciation for those muscles that Brody kept taking advantage of would surely kill him one day, Kurt was certain of it.

Those fingers were back to caressing his inner walls, only now a third was right alongside them, spreading him out and getting him prepared to be taken. Brody was kissing his neck; affectionate little nips against his pearly white skin, marking him up effectively as well as rousing him up and getting him ready for more, though this time they could slow things down and take their time to reach their completion.

Steady little noises were leaving his throat, small 'oh's and soft 'ah's as Brody took care of him. He groaned quietly when a fourth finger were pressed inside him, his already tired legs shaking slightly from the exertion of keeping them locked behind the strong man's back. Cupping his love's neck he tilted Brody's face up against him, locking their lips together and sighing his pleasure into the other's open mouth as their tongues tangled together, moaning when tasting himself on the taller man's tongue.

If there was one thing that would always and forever be Kurt's favorite thing to do with Brody it would be kissing the other man. Their lips fit together like the utter most perfect pieces of a puzzle, and the overwhelming feelings that always struck him when they were lip-locked and lost in the other one's embrace would forever enchant him.

"Okay, okay, you need to get in me – now," Kurt ordered, breaking away from the searing kiss, ducking his head and kissing his way over his lover's prominent jaw and down his throat, mouthing at his adam's apple. He was aching for it, the fingers in him hardly enough anymore now that he was stretched and ready to go, and he knew the only thing that would soothe his desperation at this point was his boyfriend's thick length.

Brody didn't even answer him, too used to how Kurt would get when he'd taken too much time preparing him, how impatient he would get, and instead Kurt only watched him reach for the nightstand and the condoms they kept in it.

Snatching the rubber from his boyfriend Kurt sat up and ripped the package open with his teeth, his deft fingers rolling the condom onto his boyfriend's steel-hard dick tortuously slow, a smirk playing across his lips when he wrapped his hand around the shaft and stroked him teasingly a few times and luring several low groans out of the older man's throat. When the other man told him he would come if he didn't stop though he quickly dropped him and situated himself back against the pillows, spreading himself out invitingly, basically beckoning his boyfriend to come and take him with his gifted length.

Kurt watched as his tanned boyfriend spread himself out on top of him, their bodies touching all over, before feeling his hand traveling down between their bodies and aligning himself with Kurt's dripping opening. Just feeling him rubbing up and down his folds made Kurt clench his muscles and trying to draw him in, pleads stuck on the tip of his tongue for Brody to just give it to him, to give it _all_ to him.

Then he could feel the thick head beginning to enter him, and as usual when doing this what he knew was big felt positively _enormous_ when first spreading him apart. He always felt like he was being split in two when Brody would press into his tight hole like this, and hopefully it that feeling never would, because while being completely tortuous and painful it also felt way to fucking good and perfect as well. Kurt adored these first few thrust when he was hanging on that glorious edge of pleasure and pain, but he loved it even more when the pain would finally subside and leaving him drowning in that thick and heading never-ending pool of pleasure.

Soon Kurt is rocking his own hips in rhythm with his ankles locked behind Brody's back and pushing him forward, closer, needing those hard and punishing thrusts into him like it's a drug. Brody's tongue is inside his mouth, exploring every last inch of it and Kurt is just clinging on for dear life, sure that he has gone to heaven and back as he feels the silken sheets drag against his sweaty back.

Clawing his nails down the shifting muscles of Brody's back, most likely marring his skin for a long while because of it, Kurt finally clings on hands and feet to his boyfriend as he feels his second orgasm rush up on him. It starts out with small sparks in his stomach that soon jolts and rushes through his entire body accompanied by an admittedly high and very unmanly shriek, and he sees firework behind his closed eyelids as he clenches them shut. He's sure his boyfriend is moaning above him cause he can feel both the erratic thrusts pushing in a few final times as well as the way the condom fills to what is surely an obscene amount, but he can't hear a thing – not with the way the blood rushes past his ears and filling them with nothing but white noise.

It's several long moments before Brody has to remind him that his legs are thrown across the other man's back and that if he wants to clean up he should release him, and when he does drop them to the mattress he can't help but whine pitifully when Brody leaves him sopping and empty. He is given a chaste kiss for compensation though, and he rolls his eyes happily when Brody marches off for a clean washcloth from the bathroom.

'Brody is way too good for him,' Kurt thinks burrowing himself down into the sweat-drenched comforter, his nose scrunching up in slight disgust at the smell of it. He doesn't care though, they'll probably mess it up at least twice more before Brody even leaves for work so it's not really any use to change the bedding yet.

Brody returns with the cloth in his hands, and carefully, almost reverently he cleans Kurt up, making sure he is as clean as can be before he joins him in bed. Kurt immediately cuddles close to him, throwing one arm and one leg over his body and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, determined to get in at least a quick little nap before round three.

Right on the edge of sleep he can feel Brody pulling him even closer still, and he can hear him murmuring quietly into his ear. "I love you. You go to sleep and when you'll wake up the living room will be clean and I'll have some late breakfast made and waiting for you in the kitchen, ok? Now sleep, I'll stay here until you do."

Like Kurt said, Brody is way too good for him. Even though those muscles of his would surely kill Kurt one day.

Eh, it would be worth it.


	6. Santana

**Pairing: Kurt/Santana.**

**Prompt: Kurt gets curious about how girl's bodies work.**

**Words: 4029**

**Kinks: Fingering, oral, body worship.**

**AN: Yup, another girl story. Obviously I have no problem at least attempting to write them, although it's fun tossing my ideas at my friends who call me crazy for even trying to get this to work. I think I manage rather well :) I am also ****_so _****happy with my Santana here, it's the first time I write her in this kind of scale, can you tell? :)**

* * *

><p>It's something that he's been curious about for the last weeks, or rather more accurately, for the past few months. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about it, to stop dreaming about it – to stop imagining doing something about it. He isn't even certain in the least <em>why<em> this is on his mind recently. It's not like anything has changed; it's not like he isn't gay anymore, not like he has a sudden dislike for the male body, and more specifically, not an out of the blue surprising dislike for _cock. _Nor is it like he's suddenly interested in girls either – he still finds them to be beautiful creatures, if not hard to understand at some points, but he doesn't find them attractive in the least. He doesn't have a new interest in boobs, or curves at all for that matter.

He's just... curious, he guesses. Just wondering more than is probably healthy about _how_ the female body works. It's just a desperate and somewhat ridiculous need to _know_. To experiment and find out for himself just what the big deal is.

Santana had been all too willing; saying that none of the boys she'd slept with had ever wanted anything but simply fucking her. And that while she was obviously on board with doing just that, 'cause well, _duh_, it would be nice to for once be the center of attention and not be forced to fake an eager reaction if not earned. It wasn't expected from their deal, as it actually would rather defeat the purpose of the whole thing for Kurt in the first place if she did that. All she really needed to do was lay there and let Kurt do what he wanted.

Which was really just seeing what made girls tick.

Though, despite knowing exactly what he'd bargained for when asking Santana for this, Kurt still blushed a furious red when she'd shed every single article of clothing from her slim body before laying down bored – yet unexpectedly invitingly – on his bed, completely unashamed of his presence. Though that should have been expected, shouldn't it? However it was, this was the first time Kurt had ever seen anybody beside himself naked. Because despite what everybody accused him of in the McKinley locker room, he had never even tried to subtly sneak a peek at the other boys there, too afraid of what might happen if someone found out. So watching Santana spread her legs apart and teasingly caressing her tanned thighs with her nails was slightly overwhelming to say the least.

"What Lady Hummel?" she drawled out tauntingly. "Not getting cold feet are we? 'Cause you actually had me excited there for a moment. Though I can't say I'm all that surprised. I _am_ a whole lotta woman," she finished, spreading herself even further apart and dragging one hand over her bare stomach and breast, squeezing gently at the supple flesh, letting out a soft, almost quiet, moan.

"I'm not nervous," Kurt says vehemently, though the trembling quality in his voice doesn't even convince _himself_ of his words.

Santana only rolls her eyes and stretches out on the bed, purring contentedly at the silken sheets dragging against her curves. "Right, could've fooled me. Now are you gonna get going, I do have other places to be, other people to see."

This time it was Kurt who rolled his eyes, because that statement could only mean that she was meeting up with Brittany after this; the ditzy blonde who was the only one that could ever have Santana rushing somewhere, everybody else would just have to wait for her to grace them with her self-proclaimed glorious presence.

But anyway, it might be a good idea to start things some time soon; his father would only be out of the house for little over an hour or so more, and Kurt really didn't want to be found with a naked girl in his bed. That would surely be far worse than when Burt had found him making out with Brittany that one time, and this time he couldn't blame it on trying to be straight, something which his father would surely suspect him of doing.

And if he didn't do anything soon, Kurt wasn't sure he would ever get the courage to.

So taking a deep breath Kurt walked over to the bed, and started to lift his boot-clad foot to kneel on the mattress beneath the naked Latina.

"Hey, wait up," Santana commandeered, raising herself up on her elbows. Raking her eyes over his designer clothes she only raised her eyebrows. "You gotta lose those first." Kurt didn't even manage to open his mouth before she continued. "No way am I gonna be able to get wet for you if you insist on wearing something that screams _virgin_. Trust me, I've been with too many of those to be able to tell you that they're a complete turn-off. Now loose the clothes before I dry up completely here Porcelina."

Tired of arguing with her – McQueen knows they'd done enough of that on the short drive over from school – Kurt merely bent down and begun unleashing his shoes. Then fallowed the three layers of shirts and the wickedly tight jeans that he had to shimmy his way out of, all of which got folded primly and set on his desk for later, before he looked back at the bronze-skinned girl. She was only gazing back at him with one raised eyebrow, clearly waiting, and with a grumpy little huff Kurt kicked off the briefs he wore as well, finally standing before her completely bare and wanting to shield his body from her exploring gaze.

When the only thing he received from her after she'd given him a quick once-over was a low hum before she fell back against the bed Kurt rolled his eyes, but he was at least happy she hadn't jabbed at him about the little pudgy bit of his stomach that refused to disappear no matter how much he exercised, nor saying anything about his pear hips, or even worse than that – comparing him in full detail to all the other guys she'd been with that would surely leave him scarred for life.

So all in all, Kurt figured, a hum was really rather good in the end.

Returning once more to the bed Kurt at last kneeled on it, considering how he wanted to go about this. He could start straight with the main event and bypass all the other things, going directly to her vagina, but that seemed rather rude and tasteless to Kurt so he dismissed that immediately. His idea to start with her boobs, since they seemed to be very popular and unfrightening things to play with and explore was also tossed aside, because of just that – every other boy would go straight for a girl's boobs. Not that he wanted to stand out or anything, he didn't much care whether or not he would be remembered in Santana's long line of lovers, but because he refused to be likened to the common and boring things called straight teenage boys.

No, instead he crawled his way over the bored Latina, resting over her on his knees and elbows as he leant down and began to kiss and nibble on her jaw.

"Geez, Hummel," Santana droned, closing her eyes tiredly. "If you think kissing my cheek will get me hot and bothered you have another thing coming, because guess what Twinkerbell? It _really_ doesn't. I'm not into all that lovey dovey shit, remember?"

"I thought the point of all this was for you to just shut up and _lie there_?" Kurt pointed out exasperatedly. Maybe he should've gone to Brittany after all? "Considering I wanted to just explore for myself. _Remember_?"

She only huffed in reply, seemingly recalling that end of the deal and remembering that she had agreed to this and all and couldn't really complain, not yet at least.

Satisfied with her answer Kurt returned to his little line of kisses and love bites up her jaw towards her ear, where he decided to see what suckling on her earlobe would do. As it turned out it wasn't much; apart from a barely distinguishable shiver Kurt couldn't note any changes, but he journeyed on, determined to find out what would make girls – and Santana in particular as it seemed – scream out in pleasure.

In the end Kurt found out a lot of things about Santana. She didn't particularly like it when he paid any attention whatsoever to her neck and throat, but when he sucked and bit into _that _special little piece of her collarbone she would moan out without control. And she didn't like it at _all_ when he tried to lick into her bellybutton, but she enjoyed the many minutes he devoted to caressing and exploring her breasts, and in particular her nipples.

Kurt could clearly remember Brittany telling him that one of her favorite kinks was having her armpits licked. Now, he had no idea in the least if this was just another thing that Santana shared with the blonde, or if it was some strange thing that _all_ girls shared, but he also had no desire to find _that_ specific fact out for himself.

Santana's armpits were to be left alone, and that was just that.

But he did explore every small inch of her arms and hands; stroking across the subtle biceps hidden beneath the surface, teasing the sensitive skin on her elbow that was apparently ticklish – something he noted for a later day when he might need it – and he laved his tongue over and between all of her freshly manicured fingers, practically blowing them as he sucked them into his mouth. Above him Santana was watching him bemusedly, if that little smirk she was wearing could be called that, but the hair on her body did stand up pleasantly, so he called it a win anyways.

The Latina's long legs were another thing entirely; whilst one inch of them could make her writhe in obvious arousal the next one almost left her kicking him – as apparent when she actually _did_, most likely leaving what would become a giant bruise across his hip in just a few short hours. He took it in stride however, because he found that her thighs were almost as much fun to play with as her breasts had been; she was basically _writhing_ under him, squirming so much he had to physically restrain her with his arms to keep her even moderately still so he could continue.

Hastily turning the girl on her back Kurt had noted everything there was about her back and ass as well, how she seemed to adore when he bit into the dip of her back, how she liked it when he gripped her ass-cheeks hard in his sweating palms – but how she squirmed away ticklish when he mouthed over her spine.

There were millions of other little things that Kurt found and cataloged in his mind – like how Santana liked having her hair pulled; lightly, but not too hard, because then she would bitch him out for trying to pull out pieces of her weave. Like how her shins were capable of making her moan unabashedly, just like her little birthmark on her right hip. If he tried to lick or bite or kiss her left hip however, she would slap him over the head and tell him to stop that.

After that he had actually asked her if she wanted him to gag her, because he was sure he could find something suitable for the task somewhere in his room, to which she had only smirked and said, "I knew you were kinkier than you looked Hummel. Now get back to what you were doing, and no more trying to claw your way into my hip, I'll fucking rip your eyes out."

Then there was at last only one more thing to explore; the thing this was pretty much all about in the end – her pussy. Bare – devoid of any hair apart from the small rectangle on top – and glistening with moist obscenely past those thick little folds that kept her hidden with a few drops of her juices dribbling down towards her ass.

Reaching his hands out Kurt carefully spread her pinkish lips apart, taking in the sight of her. Now, he'd never seen a vagina before, and certainly never this up close before, but he couldn't help to think that while it looked a little strange and just weird, it was also sort of beautiful. Her tight little hole clenching around nothing when it came into contact with the cold air, the way her small clit was innocently peeking out at him just a little bit – if that is what it even was, Kurt wasn't entirely sure, gay boy as he was and all – and the way she seemed to be just flooded with this shining, wet sheen had him admiring how pretty she looked as well as drooling, needing to taste her.

That would have to wait a little while though, because first of all he wanted to look at her as he let his fingers play and dance across her skin. And from the first little touch against her dribbling crease Santana was biting her lip hotly. Kurt didn't mind that much, he knew she was only trying to preserve her Queen Bitch attitude. And anyway, hopefully Kurt would be able to drag the sound out of her sooner or later. He'd rather work for it honestly than have her giving caution to the wind and moaning lewdly trying to rile him up instead if he asked for her to just let go. This way he would at least get the honest answers he wanted.

Rubbing his fingers gently against her clit he could feel the miniscule rock of her hips against his hand before she stilled, and he counted that as a huge win and began stroking the little nub even more fiercely between his fingers. He pinched it and he rolled it, he flicked it and he teased it; all of it making the fierce Latina give out small little proofs about how much she really enjoyed it, whether it be with another tiny roll of her hips, or a bitten off moan or whimper.

All of it was filed away in Kurt's mind no matter what.

Introducing a first, long finger to her tight hole had Santana squirming once more, and Kurt had to choke off a moan of his own at the feeling of that tight and surprisingly _wet_ heat surrounding him. Her walls were slick, and not at all like what he felt like himself when he would tentatively try to finger himself; for while he was more or less smooth all over apart from the muscles in the very beginning she had these tiny little ridges, that while incredibly slick and satiny at first touch were surprisingly rough if he pressed hard enough.

And Santana seemed to really like it if he touched hard enough, especially so when he had his fingertip tilted towards the ceiling when he dragged his digit out – then she was practically shrieking behind her closed lips.

Aligning a second finger to the first one Kurt decided to lean down and take his first taste of the alto, her eyes trailed intently on him all the while, and he knew it – fed from it. She was astonishingly sweet to the taste; almost no hints of being salty like himself, with just a hint of something bitter in the aftertaste. Not altogether bad, in fact far better than he had previously suspected, and it would be no direct hardship for him to have her rather delicious flavor on his tongue for however long this would take him.

Lapping around the fingers dragging in and out of her spread apart hole Kurt felt his nose and chin bumping continuously into her sex, and he realized quickly that by the end of this Santana wouldn't be the only one sopping like a hydrant. He was already drenched in her juices, so just imagine how he would look after he was done and had satisfied his curiosity.

Tilting his head up slightly he was able to reach her clit with his lips, and he began to cautiously nip and suck the little bud into his mouth, rolling it carefully between his teeth as he listens to her throaty whimpers. Throwing caution to the wind he hallows his cheeks and suck the little nub furiously, and it finally makes Santana loose all control of herself, and she thrashes wildly beneath him, bucking up and away and closer still as she wails out how good she feels, how good Kurt is.

It's an ego boost to say the least, to know he is the one to make sex-goddess Santana Lopez flail like this because of him eating her out, knowing he is the _only one_ who has ever been able to do that. That he is the only one who even _tried_.

It doesn't take Kurt long to realize that he can't continue properly as long as the black-haired girl continues to thrash around like this, so he lays his unoccupied hand across the flat expanse of her stomach and presses her down against the bed, stilling her movements. As he keeps up his previous movements with his tongue and with his fingers Kurt can feel the way her muscles strains against him, still trying furiously to grind herself against his face. Almost pitying the girl and how long he'd been teasing her he acquaintances with her obvious wish, mushing his mouth even closer to her sex and lapping and sucking everything he can reach, even going so far that he tugs her pussy lips into his mouth and just _devours _them_,_ not really caring how tired his mouth is or how his jaw is aching from keeping it open so long.

He now has three thin fingers plunging deep into her wet depth, and he can feel the walls clenching around him every time he moves to pull them back out, like she is trying to keep him inside. Deep inside.

"G-God, Hummelina, whatever the hell you're doing, keep it up," Santana tells him in between little choked off moans and one particularly high shriek that she tries to kill even as it slips past her lips, and Kurt knows that while Santana is not the kind of person to beg – at all – this is her asking him for something. She is asking him to make her _come_, and isn't that a picture for the history books?

So, sucking her clit back into his mouth he laves across the little bundle of nerves, all the while plunging his fingers into her wet cavern at a flying pace, his fingertips dragging against her walls and practically shoving her over the edge.

She _screams _as she comes, a clear liquid shooting straight past the fingers he has buried in her pussy, and it makes Kurt preen so much his cheeks hurt from how big he's smiling, knowing from Puck's stories that he has managed the impossible, he has done something that Puck himself hasn't; he has made Santana Lopez – Ice Bitch of the Cheerios – squirt.

All the while he's licking into her sex, though more gently, only easing her through her blinding orgasm. His fingers slows to a stop, but he keeps them in as she rocks her hips in time to the sparks flying through her body. The way her walls are clenching around him, keeping him there with a vice-like grip is heading, and he momentarily wonders how it would feel to be inside that for real. If it would feel as good as he imagines it to.

But neither does he have the will, nor does he have the time, because glancing at the clock he can tell his father will be home within the fallowing minutes if he isn't already, in which case things are about to get very awkward during dinner that night. Time would tell, Kurt supposes as he eases himself out of the bed to go wash himself up.

While he hasn't been that particularly hard during his exploration Kurt is surprised to finding just how _drunk_ he's looking. First of all his eyes are almost black, which is quite a feat considering how pale his eyes normally are. His hair is also in such a disarray Kurt is close to panicking thinking about it, knowing how long it will take to fix it. None of that is anything though in comparison to how his skin is glistening from the numerous different fluids coating it.

How his skin will punish him for doing this to it is something Kurt rather not think about at the moment, knowing he will need a full cleansing procedure later just to minimize any damage to it.

So washing his face off quickly Kurt brings with him a few wash cloths back to bed, handing them to Santana who is sitting cross-legged against his headboard. There is a huge wet spot further down the sheets, and Kurt blushes just thinking what brought it on, making Santana mutter out something along the line of 'virgins'.

"So, Lady Hummel," Santana begins as she dries herself up. "Just know that if you ever doubt your placement on the Kinsley scale again, I am most definitely on the top of the list for you to defile."

"Naw, Satan," Kurt teases, fluttering his eyelashes at her, "are you saying you thought I was good? Really? I didn't think I'd ever see the day."

"Well," she sniffs haughtily, "There's a first for everything. Don't get your panties in a twist, it's not a good look for you." She points at him, "And if you ever, and I mean _ever_, tell anybody that I said any of this, you know you will regret it. Remember, Lima Heights Adjacent, not a good place. Just saying."

"I'll remember," Kurt chuckles.

"Good," Santana smiles briefly, if the tugging of the corner of her lips can be referred as that. She gets up from the bed and searches out the cheerio skirt that has fallen under the bed. "Now, I need to get going to Britt-Britt's, she's marrying her cats or something. Wanted them to have a 'winter wedding.' You," she says, motioning to Kurt, "you need to come along, or else Brittany will get sad that you didn't. And I need the ride, so chop chop."

"And why, pray tell, should I ever fallow you to a _cat wedding_ of all things?" Kurt wondered confusedly.

"Britt knows I'm here, and she will get disappointed if her favorite boyfriend won't come along."

Kurt only rolls his eyes, which seems to be a theme of the night, and reluctantly agrees.

"Should I bring some cookies?" he asks, struggling his way into a clean pair of jeans. "One does bring gifts to a wedding, even if it's for cats, right?"

"Does it contain any form of catnip, cheese, eggs or chocolate?" is the only thing Santana asks in return.

"What does- never mind. Yeah, there's chocolate. No eggs though, only egg substitute. And certainly no catnip or cheese," Kurt informs the Latina waiting for him by the stairs as he buttons up his shirt and searches for an appropriate scarf.

"Good, then bring them. It'll be a good distraction when Britt won't be able to find Charity. Just keep them in the car until then, otherwise she'll tell you that Lord Tubbington won't eat it, not unless there's cheese in it. So, ready to go Twinkle-Toes?"

Kurt heaves a sigh, how does Santana even have the time to come up with all these nick-names for him?

"Guess so."


	7. Blaine

**Pairing: Kurt/Blaine.**

**Prompt: As soon as BICO ends, things get more serious. Blaine leans in for a kiss, Kurt is a little nervous and uncertain. Last time he let his feelings go, he got hurt... and his first kissing experience was less than positive. Blaine softly promises not to hurt him, and that whatever happens will be nothing more than what Kurt wants.**  
><strong>Then he proceeds to gently but firmly push Kurt down on his back on that leather sofa and have his wicked way with him. Blaine should be totally in control, loving and gentle, and Kurt should be nervous and submissive, letting him take the lead, but it should be TOTALLY consensual.<strong>

**Words: 3314**

**Kinks: Frotting, over the clothes handjob.**

**AN: I was careful not to take things too far with this, because it would just be weird if I had them go all the way directly, especially with how virginal and shy Kurt sounds from this prompt. In the end I figured that some frotting and stuff was just the right amount of smut for things to still seem somewhat probable, and in the end it did heighten the story, made it more believable. At least it did to me. :)**

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><p>"...But baby it's cold outside!"<p>

As soon as the last note had died out Kurt instantly turned from the somewhat mischievous and flirty version of himself from just mere seconds ago, back into the nervous and uncertain boy he usually had been around Blaine for the last few weeks since coming to this school. Looking down at the patterned rug before him he couldn't believe he had just flitted around this room blatantly flirting with the boy of his dreams. He had batted his eyelashes for goodness sake!

What would Blaine think of this?

Cautiously glancing back at the other boy Kurt found those mesmerizing hazel eyes staring straight back at him, or more accurately, at his lips. Was Blaine really thinking about what Kurt thought he was thinking? Was he really about to kiss Kurt? Was Kurt even truly ready for that?

Kurt knew he wanted Blaine to kiss him, sure, had wanted that for months now, but he wasn't certain that he could really do that, not yet anyway. He still had nightmares of Karofsky pushing him up against the lockers, stealing his first kiss time and time again, only he wouldn't stop there. More than once Kurt had woken up soaked in sweat and terrified, not able to fall back asleep for hours.

Could he really allow Blaine to kiss him now? Could he be kissed and not panic in fear of it being Karofsky?

His mind was still spinning with questions, with doubts, when Blaine finally leaned forward, his palm warm on Kurt's rosy red cheek, and all Kurt could think was a panicked 'wait!'

Which was why he gently pushed Blaine back with one hand on his chest, turning his head away with tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "Wait," he whispered pleadingly as he closed his eyes to keep the tears at bay. Something was missing, something so utterly important was missing and Kurt had no idea whatsoever what that thing could be. All he knew was that there was no way he could ever let Blaine kiss him right then and there, not when it didn't felt right, not when it felt like the memory of Karofsky could intrude on any given moment.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Blaine asked concernedly, one hand rubbing Kurt's shoulder soothingly as he with the other took a careful hold of the hand Kurt still had on his chest, his thumb stroking softly across the back of it.

Feeling as those calloused fingers twined around his own Kurt came to a slow realization; as he felt those fingers deftly playing with his own he realized what had been missing earlier. It was so obvious now too that he'd thought about it, it was so clear.

It was having those hands caught in his own that had been missing, of feeling those callouses and rough edges against his own soft skin and thin knuckles. Ever since their first meeting when Blaine had took his pale hand in his own tanned one and dragged him down that so called 'shortcut', they had always been clasping their hands together; walking down the hallways, watching a movie, doing homework or just plainly relaxing side by side – it had never taken them long to search for the other's hand, and Kurt had always felt so much calmer whenever that first touch between them happened.

But just then, moments earlier, Blaine hadn't held his hands, and it had allowed those frightful memories of Karofsky to fly to the forefront of his mind in an instant. Kurt seriously doubted it would have ever entered his mind had Blaine actually held his hand from the start.

Kurt had always believed the touch of a fingertip was just as sexy as it could get – and as romantic and grounding for that matter – and this was the proof confirming his theory, because without the touch of Blaine's fingers around his own... he'd felt so lost and unsure, so scared. He'd felt like he'd been back in that locker room, terrified and alone.

So, thanks to his new-found revelation, Kurt could honestly look up into the hazel eyes searching his own blue ones, and say that nothing was wrong. Because now that he knew what had been so wrong, what had been blatantly missing and making warning signs appear in his mind, and more importantly – what could change that, everything was fine. Everything was okay.

"Nothing's wrong," he said with a small smile, but catching the disbelieving look Blaine was giving him he elaborated. "No, really. Nothing's wrong. I was just... flashbacks I guess." He gestured towards their clasped hands. "This helped. More than you'll know."

"Okay, I trust you," Blaine whispered, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand again as a small smile grazed his lips to match the one on Kurt's face. "And I hope you know that I would never hurt you the way he did. I would never do anything you didn't want me to. You know that right?"

Kurt only nodded, a small 'yeah' leaving his lips.

"Does that mean that I can kiss you? 'Cause I kind of really, _really_ want to. Only if you're okay with it though," Blaine hurried to add, his shining hazel eyes filled with worry.

"You may," Kurt granted, little butterflies flipping wildly in his stomach as Blaine leaned back in once more. Only this time, there was no dread accompanying it. There was no panic, no worry, no horrible thoughts of Karofsky flashing before his mind. No, instead there were only those butterflies making somersaults in his belly, and a warmth flooding into his bones from the hold Blaine kept of his fingers and his jaw.

When their lips did meet Kurt blanked for a second; the soft press of Blaine's lips enough to make his mind cloud over momentarily, for every thought to leave his brain. But once that second was up, Kurt was quick to push back against Blaine, to mold his smiling lips closer to Blaine's. To grasp Blaine's blazer lapel in his unoccupied hand. To wriggle just that little bit closer to the shorter boy so he could feel a tiny bit more of the younger boy's warm body against his own.

Blaine dropped the hand from his jaw – though never breaking that mesmerizing kiss – and curled it around Kurt's slim waist, supporting and drawing him closer him. Kurt loved that weight, loved how it managed to ground him just as much as the hand in his own did. Having Blaine's arm around his waist wasn't foreign territory, no, it was distinctly familiar from sitting so closely together during Warbler meetings and what not that it was strictly necessary.

It was also oh so welcome at the moment.

"Kurt," he could hear the other boy grumble lowly against his lips, before urging even closer against him, drawing him even nearer than before, causing even more passion to radiate between them than it did moments earlier.

Kurt complied and submitted to whatever those lips craved from him; he tilted his head when Blaine silently asked him to, he opened his mouth when Blaine's tongue urged him to, and he yielded to that tongue when it invaded his mouth. Instead Kurt only enjoyed everything Blaine chose to give him, so utterly happy to finally have Blaine give him this first kiss that mattered to him.

And oh was it wonderful.

This kiss was nothing like those Brittany had given him – there was so much more passion and sparks and dare he say it? love, flowing between them, that Brittany hadn't even stood a chance – and to say it was worlds better than whatever Karofsky had 'given' him was like saying that duck l'orange was better than hot dogs. There was just no comparison needed because they were so far apart on the spectrum of things.

This kiss... it was everything.

Having Blaine explore his mouth's every little undiscovered crevice with his long and nimble tongue was so otherworldly and numbing, the pleasure of it so grand that it left Kurt's mind hazy and clouded, slow and completely out of focus. The only thing he could really concentrate on at all was how good it felt to have Blaine so utterly close and pressing him down into the couch beneath him.

...Wait...

"Blaine," he gasped, breaking free of the overwhelming kiss he'd been given, only now realizing he was in fact lying down on top of the brown leather couch he was certain they had been sitting on before he'd promptly blanked out. And Blaine was on top of _him_, his knees spread apart on either side of Kurt's thighs, his hands holding Kurt's own down on his trembling chest. "Wha- what's going on?"

"I'm just kissing you," Blaine responded in between little nips to his bared neck.

"I- I know. But... why are we laying down?"

"It's just easier this way." Blaine looked up at him, catching his worried eyes. "Do you trust me?"

And, well _yeah_, Kurt trusted Blaine. Of course he did. Apart from his father there was nobody in the world he trusted more. So he nodded, once, slowly, wondering what Blaine would ask.

"Good. Then just... let me kiss you. Okay?" Blaine looked so desperate for Kurt to agree, like there was nothing he wanted more than to just kiss him. But... if he let Blaine continue... where would things end? Kurt hadn't even noticed when they'd laid down for Christ's sake!

Because Kurt wasn't sure he was ready for anything more than just hand-holding and kissing. He knew he wasn't ready to get naked with Blaine, not by a long shot. He probably wasn't even ready to lose his shirt. He _most definitely_ wasn't ready for full-out sex. But he knew, logically, that there were so much other things that they could do together that didn't entail any of those things, that he might be ready for, and it were those things that he had no clue about. It were those things he was so worried about, so nervous about.

As he kept silent – his thoughts whirring endlessly in his mind – Blaine dropped one of his hands, reaching instead for one of the fallen locks across his forehead, tugging the hair lightly before tucking it away. "Okay? Just kissing, I swear."

"Yeah. Yes. Okay," Kurt smiled. Kissing he could do. Kissing was safe, harmless. Kissing didn't make him nervous and jittery, not when Blaine was involved. Kissing _Blaine_... there wasn't anything that could possibly describe it, except maybe the word perfect, and even then it wasn't completely right.

And if Blaine promised... that they wouldn't do more than that... then Kurt trusted him.

So he gratefully accepted the mouth pressing against his again, wielded to it once more as it took control of him and owned him. He granted the eager tongue access to his own when it asked for it, and he just enjoyed what was given, and gave just as much in return.

He loved the taste of Blaine; the heady mixture of coffee and cinnamon and something so purely _Blaine_ that Kurt was sure he could get drunk off of it. He was pretty certain he already was, actually. For what else could explain this dim and clouding fog that was settled in his mind, slowing his thought process and leaving him on a high of pure unadulterated joy and exhilaration?

Dully he could feel one of Blaine's hands caressing the side of his neck, making quivering shivers spread all across his body, the feel of each touch lingering on his skin like he'd been branded by it's warmth. The touch made hot blood rush all through his body, making him gasp from the sensation.

With his free hand Kurt gripped Blaine's shoulder, needing something to hold on to, fearing he would float away if he didn't. The rough texture of the blazer calmed him, somewhat at least, enough so he would be able to focus back on the sheer amazing feel of having Blaine kissing him as deep and thoroughly as he was. Kurt honestly had no other choice but to go along with it and allow Blaine whatever access he wanted and demanded from him, but it was a choice he was so willing to make.

Kurt could feel himself reacting strongly to Blaine's treatment of him; could feel the way his slacks ever so slowly tightened around him, how they suddenly constricted his lower body so horribly, but he was willing to ignore it – if just for a while longer – so that he could keep kissing this wonderful boy above him.

Above him Blaine adjusted himself, shuffling himself around – Kurt could note he took utmost care not to break the glorious kiss with him – so he could lay himself completely over Kurt, trapping him even further against the leather beneath him.

Wrenching his head away Kurt whined out a sharp 'Blaine!', throwing his head back when Blaine oh so pleasurably pressed himself down against where Kurt wanted him the most – and at the same time the very least. "Why- What- I thought we were only- kissing!" Kurt gasped out panting as Blaine ground himself in tiny little waves against him, sucking what would later turn out to be a huge mark into his porcelain neck.

"We are," his rough voice answered him with a low mumble against his skin. "We're just having a little bit of fun as well. Do you want me to stop?"

"N-no," Kurt whined through gritted teeth. Whatever it was Blaine was doing to him felt all too good for him to let the other boy stop, even if he was a little uncertain about what it was or how he felt about it. "Keep going."

"Okay," Blaine happily answered, licking a broad stripe up his throat, before nipping and biting at a sensitive little spot higher up his neck, near his ear. All the while the movements of his hips continued, rocking down against Kurt, and Kurt had to bite his own lip bloody to keep from screaming out how good it felt.

Absently he could feel that the younger boy was just as... well, _excited_, as he was himself, but Kurt chose to ignore that, knowing that everything would get all too terribly overwhelming for him if he thought about it. Instead he just clung onto Blaine and allowed the pleasure to come onto him in these spiking waves, leaving his skin tingling and his bones feeling like jelly.

He could hear Blaine moaning lowly against his ear as he tried – falteringly – to leave another mark against his pale skin, and the heavenly noises made Kurt give out these pathetic little mewls of his own, as he vainly tried to rock his own hips up to meet Blaine's. In the end he really couldn't; he was too crowded into the couch under him that there simply wasn't anywhere for him to go, other than to cling to Blaine with both hands and feet, allowing the tanned boy to set whatever pace he saw fit.

"K-Kurt? Can I-" Blaine asked, slowing his hips and gesturing for something with his hand. For what precisely, Kurt couldn't understand, and he just looked on with curiosity, still feeling a need for Blaine to go back to what he'd been doing before. "Over the clothes, of course, I wouldn't dream of anything else," Blaine continued with a much more steady tone, but still gesturing with his hand.

But what... oh. Oh! Blaine wanted... Really? He wanted to do that? To Kurt?

"Mhmm, I- sure," Kurt hummed, shyly, averting his eyes briefly before glancing back. Blaine was positively beaming above him, quick to lean down and connect their lips again, leaving Kurt a breathy, jumbled mess once more.

Too occupied with the onslaught to his bruised and sore lips Kurt didn't notice the hand sneaking down his front at first, only when it had cupped his most private part did he took in what was happening, and even then he was too lost to properly acknowledge it. Past the feeling of there being something _so good_ happening down there, Kurt didn't think much about it at all, the tongue invading deep into his mouth being of much more importance.

In fact, Kurt was so vastly invested in what was happening to his mouth, that he didn't notice what was happening to the rest of his body at all. He couldn't feel the goosebumps rising on his arms and neck, he could feel the burning, hot pressure deep in his gut, and he couldn't feel the way his muscles started to seize up. In fact, he didn't take in any of those things, not until that white hot burn seized up his entire body and had him shaking from the force of his sudden orgasm did he notice anything past Blaine's gorgeous lips.

But that feeling, that all-consuming, body-seizing orgasm, it left him so loose, so pliant, against that couch, that when he felt Blaine thrusting against his thigh at a wild, furious pace – he didn't mind in the least. He just wanted Blaine to feel as good as he had himself.

And though he wanted nothing more than to help with that, to at least be able to kiss him through it – because hadn't _that_ been wonderful – his body was far from compliant with that wish. His muscles wouldn't work, his limbs wouldn't lift, and in the end he was left to just watch as Blaine pushed his way over that ledge. He got to watch as Blaine came, got to watch that pleasurable expression spread over his face and body, got to watch as he rode that high for several seconds before he slumped down against Kurt.

It took a while for Kurt to realize what exactly it was they'd just done, to understand what their previous actions had _meant_, but he couldn't bare to regret them once he did. Sure, it most definitely had been extremely soon into their new relationship – if that even was what they had now – but it didn't feel wrong. Not in the least. It felt right, it felt so right to have done this with Blaine, to have shared this with the shorter teen.

No, Kurt didn't regret what they'd done. He didn't regret letting his hormones run rampant, didn't regret allowing Blaine control of his body. He didn't regret a single thing about it, except maybe not taking in and remembering more than what he had.

There were so much more he wanted to remember. What did Blaine look like when they'd kiss? How did his heartbeat feel against his own trembling chest? How did it feel to run his hand into the hair at the nape of Blaine's neck, and how much of that gel would get stuck to his fingers? What would Blaine's cheek feel like under his lips? Would it be smooth and absolute clean-shaven like his own, or would there be little stubs of hair tickling against his red-bitten lips?

So many questions Kurt wanted the answer to, but that he hopefully would be able to answer at a later point of time. After all, he was confident that after a long talk where they talked all of this through, they would have a long future together. A long, and strong, relationship together. One that may have started out a little bit tacky and fast, but that was theirs.

But as it was, he was content to snuggle his way up against Blaine, to breath in his scent as their racing heartbeats calmed. Together.


	8. Chris

**Pairing: Kurt/Chris.**

**Prompt: So for some reason (competition, retreat, whatever) the Glee club goes to LA and one night Kurt winds up in a gay bar. (Maybe Puck dared him? Author's choice as to why he's there.) He's definitely not expecting to be the target of who knows how many leathermen and of course, they don't mean any harm, but needless to say, he's pretty overwhelmed.**  
><strong>But in his half-drunken attempt to hightail it out of there, Kurt finds that he doesn't need to go anywhere when this actor right here notices him, senses how freaked out (and <strong>**_cute_****) he is, and steps in.**  
><strong>Chris then persuades Kurt not to leave. With his tongue. And his cock. And other body parts.<strong>  
><strong>Bonus points if it's on the bar itself, shortly before or after closing.<strong>  
><strong>Double bonus points if either one of them has a sneaking suspicion that something not quite right is happening (like "who is this guy and why does he look freakishly like me?"), but shrugs it off on account of the alcohol.<strong>

**Words: 4129**

**Kinks: Frotting, blowjob, fingering, anal, bareback, exhibitionism.**

**AN: I'm not sure in the least of my portrayal of Chris Colfer here... meh, it's as good as it's gonna get anyway, enjoy your reading folks!**

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><p>Being told that due to their competitor's auditorium being unsuspectingly foreclosed because of certain pesticides problems, their Sectionals competition was now to be held in Los Angeles of all places (by some mysterious twist of luck, nobody knew the exact reason why). Kurt had not however imagined it going the way it was headed at the moment. He had thought about running into every imaginable celebrity that resided there, he had thought about going shopping on the Rodeo Drive with all of his girls in tow, he had thought about visiting the famous Hollywood sign and maybe even going to one of the copious and completely tacky Paramount tours being offered when they weren't stuck in the hotel practicing for their competition.<p>

Never had he though this trip would bring him to visit his first ever club. A _gay club_ none the less. And because of _Puck_ of all people.

It had all began when Puck had said he was about to sneak out on their first night there to go out to one of the many bars around their part of town, mentioning that he might even go into that strip club he'd seen on their way to the hotel, wanting to get his hands on some booze, and, maybe, even an eager and willing girl or two. When Kurt had begun ranting at him how he was going to get them all in trouble it had all very quickly escalated into Puck telling Kurt just how plain boring and prudish he was acting all the time, how he should just let loose and live a little. From there it hadn't been long until Kurt had exclaimed angry and determined that he was going out himself to find himself a gay club to show just how _plain_ and _boring_ he really was, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang when he left.

Which was why he was standing in the shadows outside – what he at least thought was a gay bar – wondering how the hell he was going to get himself in there. Despite being somewhat friends with both Puck and Santana, Kurt didn't own a fake ID, and he knew he looked like an eleven year old milkmaid on his good days. There was no way anybody would ever let him inside.

Still, he would have to try; it was far less embarrassing telling the guys he hadn't been allowed inside than saying he hadn't even dared to try. They would never let him live _that_ down.

So he squared his shoulders and lifted his head high and tried to look as confident as possible as he strutted his way over, only to be thrown for a loop when there wasn't even somebody there to try and trick into letting him inside.

Pouting frustratedly at spending such a long time agonizing over something that turned out not to be a problem in the first place Kurt pranced his way inside, and only when taking in the space before him did he realize exactly what he had done.

He was in a _gay club_. There were copious amounts of rather scantily clad older men all over the place – dancing, _grinding_ – and Kurt felt like a fish out of water. He didn't belong there, not really. Why was he even there?

Oh, right. Puck.

So, tilting his chin up and taking a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart Kurt made his way to the bar, instinct telling him he'd need a bit of liquid courage if he would ever survive this place. Primly sitting down in one of the unoccupied bar-stools Kurt waves for the – just as half-naked as the people dancing – leather-clad barman, ordering himself an appletini, one of the few drinks he'd actually heard of that were supposedly good. And although the bartender raised an amused eyebrow, clearly able to tell Kurt weren't of age, he handed one over not a minute later.

With the green drink in hand Kurt sighs quietly, amazed that he'd managed to pull this off.

Puck would be so proud.

"Hi there cutie, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" Kurt hears a deep, rumbling voice purr behind him, making every single cell in his body seize up and panic. He knows the voice is talking to him – there aren't any other people sitting on this side of the bar, it was why he'd chosen it in the first place – but Kurt can't for the life of him figure out _why_.

Back home the only ones that keep volunteering to talk to him without previous prompting are either part of the glee club, his father or – and this is sadly the greater part of people approaching him – various bullies wanting to 'play' with him. So why some older guy is going out of their way to talk to _him_ of all people is beyond Kurt's understanding.

Still, he turns around in the chair, and gazes up at the guy standing beside him. Only, it isn't just one guy because behind the one that had spoken to him there are three more; all of them burly, hairy men with big, obvious muscles covering the parts of them that were unclothed. And Kurt could tell you that there was a lot of their bodies showing. Apart from the occasional vest all of them seemed to only wear some sort of leather pants or shorts.

Eyes big as saucers Kurt looked at the men before him, his mouth hanging slightly open as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say. Nothing of course came to him, because what could he possibly say in a situation like this? That he liked their biceps? Their abs? No, all of that would just sound stupid, and Kurt blushed just thinking about it.

The men seemed amused watching him blush, something which of course only made him redden further, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to expel any words, any _noise_ really, to say to them.

"Well, aren't you a real beauty, huh?" the man standing in the front asked rhetorically as he stepped forward and cupped his jaw in one of his massive palms. Kurt shivered from the touch, all too overwhelmed with the attention bestowed upon him. "Could just eat you right up, right guys?" the man continued, throwing a quick glance over his bare shoulder.

A chorus of affirmative noises met him, and the man grinned mischievously as he turned back to Kurt, smiling down at the young boy. Kurt really wanted to leave the bar right now, wanted to return to the sanctuary of his hotel room and just cuddle up with his girls, escape whatever this man had planned for him – good intentions or not. "Think I'm gonna-"

"Tom! What have I told you about scaring little teenagers that come in here?" a high-pitched voice asked irritatedly from behind Kurt, making this man – _Tom_ – look up and smile.

"Hiya there, Chris. And I wasn't scaring him, I was just gonna offer to buy him a drink. What do you say, pretty?" the burly man asked, leaning down close to Kurt so their lips were almost touching.

"Tom!" the man behind him – Chris, apparently – yelled out angrily, stomping over and grabbing Tom by his ear to drag him off and away. "He is absolutely terrified. Now I know you and your little buddies all mean well, but you can go and talk to some other twinks that actually want your attention. Those guys in the corner all seem rather interested in you guys, you know. Go talk to them," Chris ended, shooing them off in the direction of the supposed corner.

Though Kurt was grateful to this Chris for helping him with those rather obtrusive men, Kurt now found himself with another man seeking his attention, namely Chris himself.

"Hey, kid. You alright?" Chris asked, sitting down beside him and asking the bartender for a diet coke and rum, not allowing Kurt to answer before he continued. "Tom and his guys don't mean any harm you know, they're just tactless and could use a good slap to the back of their necks, but they're okay guys once you get to know them."

Kurt once again felt overwhelmed, only this time because some complete stranger was just trying to see how he was, like he actually _cared_ if Kurt was okay or not. The other men had obviously only sought him out because they thought he was pretty, but this man – Chris, he really needed to remember that – was talking to him to find out if Kurt was hurt, or emotionally scarred, or something.

If that wasn't enough to make little butterflies appear in the pit of his stomach nothing ever would.

It didn't hurt either that Chris was devastatingly handsome either; his slim yet clearly fit and lightly muscled body covered by a tight pair of black skinny jeans – much like the pair he was wearing himself, actually – and a constricting white t-shirt with a leather-jacket on top of it. It all accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his hips while matching perfectly to his pale yet slightly tanned skin.

And to say that that face wasn't absolutely stunning was like saying the Mona Lisa wasn't a piece of art. Those piercing blue eyes centered around those mile-long lashes were positively striking, that strong jaw and lush mouth just asking for someone to realize they belonged to some divinity and needed to be worshiped properly.

And... Kurt just realized he'd been staring at this stranger like some creep for several minutes without saying a word. Blushing hotly Kurt resolutely looked down at the bar-counter before him, listening embarrassingly as Chris laughed jovially beside him.

"It's okay kid, I'm not gonna hurt you or something for looking. That's why you came to a place like this in the first place, right? To watch all the handsome men out there and maybe talk to one or two of them?" Chris stated with a smile, making Kurt dare to finally look back up at him. "And if anything it's a compliment, being stared at like that. Trust me kid, it's no worries."

"Thank you," Kurt finally whispered, feeling shy and bashful, unused as he was to have gorgeous men talking to him, not intending in the least to tell this gorgeous man that he was there because his friends practically dared him too.

"Like I said, no worries," Chris smiled, raising his half-filled glass to clink against Kurt's own forgotten one. Kurt was quick to grasp it and take a small sip, finally tasting the drink he'd ordered so long ago. "However, I think you should tell me your name though. I don't wanna be calling you kid all night," Chris joked, chuckling quietly as he took a swig from his glass.

Kurt smiled too, although slightly nervously. "It's Kurt. Hummel."

"Well, hello to you, Kurt Hummel. I'm Chris Colfer. Nice to meet you," Chris greeted, holding his hand out in offer, and Kurt grabbed it if only by reflex, shaking it twice before dropping it.

Things got easier after that; Chris asking him questions that got easier and easier to answer as Kurt's nerves lessened gradually – questions about what he was doing in LA, what his hobbies were and such. Chris had also purchased him an additional two drinks after he'd managed to finished his first one, and with his considerately low tolerance for alcohol, Kurt was pretty much hammered.

At one point in time Chris asked him to dance, which is how Kurt found himself grinding himself backwards into the older man's embrace, his arm slung behind them and clutching Chris neck as they kissed messily on the dancefloor. Chris had his arms thrown possessively around his chest and middle, his hands roaming his upper body, fingers catching upon his erect nipples and toying with them as they danced.

Kurt was moaning freely into that amazing mouth, too drunk to care if anybody was watching and simply enjoying the pleasure Chris was giving him. They were in a gay club for Christ sake, and they were only kissing, it wasn't like they were gonna have sex in the middle of the dancefloor.

Though, should that happen, Kurt certainly wouldn't say no.

"I should get back to the hotel," Kurt slurred after a long while of dancing, turning around in Chris hold and throwing his arms around the pale guy's neck, tangling his fingers into the utterly soft hair at the nape of it. "My friends are probably anxous... ansius... worried about me."

"Aw sweetie," Chris pouted, batting his incredibly long eyelashes at him. "Why don't you stay for a little while longer. They close soon anyway, and I'll take you home after, 'kay?"

Kurt wasn't sure; true, he really did want to stay, but his head was spinning and he knew his friends would be anxious (that was the word!) for him. "I- I don't know..."

Chris swooped him into a huge kiss, his tongue invading Kurt's mouth lasciviously and dueling with Kurt's own nimble one. "Are you sure?" Chris asked panting, pressing quick little nibbles into his neck. "I can take you home if you want to."

"Urgh," Kurt groaned, eyes rolling backwards as Chris bit into his porcelain white neck. How was he ever supposed to be able to say no when things felt so impossibly good? "No, no, I'll- I'll stay. Just- don't stop what you're doing."

Against his skin he could feel Chris grinning, still keeping his lips and teeth occupied marking Kurt, and Kurt threaded his fingers deeper into Chris' hair, tugging it with all his might to get the older man to kiss him again. Molding their lips together frantically Kurt scrabbled over the taller man's torso to find purchase for his unoccupied hand, finally grabbing hold of the leather-jacket and holding on for dear life as Chris sucked Kurt's tongue into his own mouth, making Kurt explore the wet cavern for himself.

Kurt couldn't for the life of him tell you how much time he spent kissing Chris after that, the cloud in his mind overtaking him and making everything a drunken haze, only that when he finally did come to the bar was virtually emptied – the only occupants beside themselves and the cleaning bartenders a few passed out drunks laying on the floor.

"Is the bar closed?" Kurt asked wonderously, still slurring every other word. Just _how_ long had he spent kissing Chris, and just _how _drunk was he for not noticing the time slipping by? "I don't want it to be over yet, I just wanna keep kissing you," he whines, gripping tight onto the lapels of Chris' jacket, only to giggle. "That's a funny word. Kissing, kissing, kissing..."

Chris chuckles, pushing a few locks of hair away from Kurt's eyes and behind his ear instead. "You're absolutely drunk, aren't you? But you're right, we can stay for a little bit longer..." Chris looks around the deserted club and starts dragging Kurt with him back to the emptied bar. "Come on, hop up," Chris gestures, helping Kurt to sit up on the bar-counter and standing himself between Kurt's thighs.

Kurt giggles drunkenly, gazing down at the man beneath him. "You're pretty, you know that?" he tells Chris, giggling again when he realizes what he just said. Before him Chris smirks, his eyes full of mischievous mirth as he leans in and kisses Kurt once more.

"Is that so," he whispers seductively into Kurt's ear, making dull shudders run up Kurt's spine. "Well, I can tell you that you are just the most precious little thing I've ever seen, cutie."

Kurt gasps, clinging onto Chris' back with both arms and legs as the man starts to mark up his neck, pleasurable sparks coursing through his drunken body. Feeling a hand drag down his front and scratching over his nipples Kurt get's goosebumps all over his body, moaning hotly when that hand reaches it's destination.

Only then does Kurt realize just how achingly hard he is, and how long he must have been based on just how much it does hurt. The hand stroking him through his clothes help though, not much, but it does, and Kurt is quick to flick his own pants open, allowing Chris to do with that whatever he wants.

Kurt doesn't care if he's acting like some wanton whore when Chris does palm him again without the barrier of his pants – only the thin cotton of his briefs between them – and simply wails and curses out how good it feels. Pawing at Chris' back Kurt humps that hand to the best of his ability, the fog in his mind only spurring him on and not telling him how slutty he's behaving.

"Oh, sweetie," Chris mumbles soothingly in his ear, drawing away his hand and instead placing it on his bare hip, stilling him. "There's no hurry, shh, calm down. Let's get you out of those clothes and we'll take care of you properly, 'kay?"

Kurt only nods brokenly, reaching up to pull off his layers of shirts and undershirts in one go, but Chris halts him, taking the time himself to unbutton every little button at a time before pushing the garment off Kurt's shoulders. Kurt hates how long time it takes, how much Chris seems to draw this out. He just wants to be naked already, to have Chris laying down on top of him – in him.

That is a possibility isn't it? To have Chris fuck him? Kurt certainly hopes so.

"That's it cutie, now let's get you out of those pants. Lift you're hips... good boy."

Kurt preens at the compliment, his cheeks hurting from how much he's smiling, and purrs when Chris guides him to lay down on the shiny wooden counter. Chris is soon straddling him, still wearing his sinfully tight pants, but he's lost the jacket and shirt so Kurt doesn't mind. He enjoys just watching Chris as the man strokes his tummy, eliciting trembles all over his skin, an electrified path fallowing his fingertips.

"Look at you, pretty," Chris murmurs appreciatively, looking at him with dark, lustful eyes. "So gorgeous; Tom was definitely right back there, one could just eat you up. Actually..." he draws out with a wicked glint in his eyes, ducking down and licking a broad stripe up Kurt's bared cock.

Kurt mewls, bucking his hips up uncontrollably at how perfect that one little touch felt, needing more of it, craving more.

"Take it easy, hun," Chris chastises, placing a strong arm over his stomach and pressing down before licking another stripe up his attentive dick. Once again Kurt moans, and as Chris continues lapping at him Kurt keeps giving out these delectable little noises, urging him on tremendously.

There's a small click noise sounding out around them, but Kurt is way to focused on the mouth sucking him into it's depth – to far into the feel of that wet warmth enveloping him so perfectly – to take any notice of it. So when two slick fingers circle his entrance he's taken by surprise, crying out softly at the unexpected touch.

He groans at the dual experience of being both swallowed down deep and stretched so grandly, unfamiliar pleasures rocketing through his veins. He swallows harshly, trying fervently to find his bearings and push down at the intrusion – but in the end Kurt only manages to the barest little rock of his hips, nothing that makes a change whatsoever in the grand scheme of things.

"Think you can take more, sweetie?" Chris asks, his voice rough from sucking Kurt for who knows how long. Kurt only nods in response, too far gone to verbally respond.

The stretch of three fingers in him makes all the difference; as that third finger is introduced Kurt starts buckling his hips wildly – or at least he tries to under the arm holding him down – and his back arches when those fingertips rub over that tiny spot inside him that feels so incredible. His lips are red-bitten from trying to keep any sort of semblance, but his loud keens still fall steadily from his trembling throat.

Soon there's a blunt pressure pushing against his open hole, and Chris is leaning over him, catching his lips as he bores his way inside, swallowing Kurt's deep moan in his own mouth. Kurt's shaking in Chris' hold, the wide stretch so much more than he's used to. Thankfully Chris takes his time entering him, otherwise Kurt wouldn't be able to take it at all. As it is though he holds on through the pain that's shooting spikes and needles through the dimming fog in his mind, clutching at Chris' shoulders so hard there will most likely leave fingerprint marks behind.

As Chris bottoms out Kurt exhales shakily, glad at the small reprieve his quivering muscles deserves, gazing up at Chris as he holds still for Kurt to grow used to the intrusion. And when Kurt nods at the pale man to go ahead Chris smacks a wet kiss to his cheek before burying himself in Kurt's neck, kissing over his pounding artery before finally moving his hips back.

The friction is much better against his rim now that the width isn't hurting him, now it merely feels pleasant. Actually, when Chris begins stabbing continuously against his prostate Kurt will gladly admit how amazing it feels to get fucked, how astounding it is to have any imaginable sound pounded out of him.

Chris is by no means going easy on him, but Kurt doesn't mind, and instead spurs him on – pleading for harder, deeper, faster, moremore_more_. And Chris gives it to him; taking hold of Kurt's supple thighs and bending them over his own shoulders, basically bending Kurt in two as he thrusts even deeper into the young countertenor. Every little thrust like this somehow rubs perfectly against his prostate, transforming Kurt into a wanton slut, begging and pleading Chris to make him come.

In the end Kurt doesn't need anymore than a final stab against his abused prostate to come; his dick erupting all over his bare stomach and coating it with white, sticky cum as Chris pulls out and jacks off above him – his cum mixing with that already on Kurt's tummy.

When Kurt comes down from his high he is surprised to find Chris painting swirls and squares in the cum coating his flesh, spreading it out and making Kurt sheen with it. Blushing hotly Kurt can feel his dick twitch excitedly at the sight, making Chris chuckle and murmur out something about teenagers.

Pulling Chris down to him Kurt kisses him, a chaste little peck that makes his sore lips tingle pleasantly. "Hi, there," Kurt giggles, gazing into the intoxicating baby blues staring back at him.

"Hi yourself," Chris chuckles, stroking a stray bit of cum off his cheek and sucking the drop into his mouth, moaning softly at the taste. Kurt reddens further as he watches, but can't help but smile happily. "So, I should probably get you home, shouldn't I?" Chris asks looking at the time.

When Kurt notices it's well past three am he too agrees that it's probably for the best, though not before asking Chris if he would be willing to meet up again while Kurt is still in town.

* * *

><p>Watching the cab drive off with Chris Kurt backs into the hotel, hand waving slowly as the car turns around the first corner. A smile tugs at his kiss-swollen lips as he turns around, swaying merrily as he walks towards the elevator.<p>

He replays the memories he's gained that night over and over as the elevator takes him up floor after floor, his nimble fingers playing with the small piece of paper in his pocket that brandishes those ten special digits all the while.

As he climbs into the bed he's sharing with Mike Kurt sighs happily, snuggling down deep into the warm comforter.

The last thought in his mind before sleep takes him is the question of where ever Kurt had seen that face before, certain that he recognizes Chris from somewhere. But when dreams take him the issue is dropped, he won't remember it when morning comes, and even if he did he would think it was the alcohol getting to him.


	9. Lauren

**Pairing: Kurt/Lauren.**

**Prompt: Lauren puts on a foot-long strap-on and fucks Kurt hard and rough from behind. She keeps at it for a long time, and Kurt comes at least twice. Blaine watches and jacks off.**

**Words: 3891**

**Kinks: Strap-on, fingering, anal, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, implied voyeurism.**

**AN: Most likely the most unusual pairing of the bunch right here. Interesting to write of course, there isn't much information to gather on other peoples writing of these, so one has to really think about it, almost cementing Lauren's entire bio to just have a clue of how she would react to everything...**

* * *

><p>Trudging his way up to his dorm Kurt sighs tiredly, exhausted from both the physical and the emotional drain that comes from being at Dalton. He misses his friends, he misses McKinley, he misses the boring and uneducating lessons that school provided. He misses his family. And despite being closer than ever, Kurt misses <em>Blaine<em>.

Here Kurt spends his whole day studying – late transfer as he is and needing to catch up – but in the end that's all he does. He studies, and studies, and somehow manages to just barely squeeze in two meals and a few hours of sleep every night. He thought that by coming to this school he would not only be rid of his bullies but also able to spend a little bit more time with the dark haired tenor of the Warblers. But no – instead he studies.

Kurt can't even remember the last time he spoke to Blaine outside of the choir room or the one class they share. And what's worse – Kurt can't remember the last time he spoke to his family or friends without needing to hang up on them after a precious few minutes of conversation, _needing_ to continue with his studies so he wouldn't fall behind even more than he already is.

They all say it's okay, that school is important, but Kurt feels guilty, and he misses _everybody_. To talk to somebody, to hug somebody, to just hang out with someone without a mile-high pile of books and notes lying between them. Kurt's just tired of it _all_.

And tonight there's even more plans of studying; his french teacher gave them all thick sheets of paper to go over and study before their finals the fallowing week, and while that particular subject comes natural to Kurt the math and physics homework he also has luring in his messenger bag certainly doesn't.

Locking up and turning the handle on the door to his room Kurt drops his bag on the floor and leans back on the thick wood of it, massaging his face with his hands, not caring in the least about the fat he gets all over his pores and will need to clean out extensively later if not to attract blemishes.

However, the dull thud from across the room brings him out from his cloud of tiredness and when he jerks his head up he instantly shrieks. Because what he certainly hadn't expected sitting there was the new addition to the New Directions – and the current state-champion of the wrestling team – going through his drawers and rooting through his junk.

"L-Lauren," Kurt sighs shakily when his heart isn't racing quite as much as it was moments earlier, "what- what are you doing here?"

She doesn't even let up on searching through his stuff as she answers him dully. "What do you think I'm doing? Catching butterflies?"

"That's not why I meant," Kurt frowns, looking on as she shuts one of the drawers and opens another, rifling through it with ease. She will completely ruin his system of order, won't she? "But fine, why are you going through my stuff?" Kurt continues on, humoring her.

"Trying to find your toys. I bet you have some hidden in here but they weren't in either your bedside table or your closet, so now I'm going through your desk, happy?"

Kurt doesn't really understand what she's saying. "My toys? Why would I..." and then it dawns on him, and at once does he turn into a bright shade of red, stammering as he addresses her once more. "I- I don't have any- _toys_ Lauren! For McQueen's sake, why would I have t-toys in here?" And he doesn't.

Or... at least not here at Dalton. At home however...

She only shrugs. "You might look like an innocent baby gay, but you aren't, are you? I swear you have some kinky shit around here somewhere, so just tell me where it is so I can stop looking for them."

"I promise you," Kurt mutters, hurrying over and pressing the drawer shut as she leans back in the chair, "I don't have any _toys_ anywhere in here. This is a _school_ for crying out loud, what do you think would happen if anyone found something?!"

"So you _do_ have stuff somewhere?" Lauren asks smugly, and of course _that's_ the only thing she would gather out of his words. He can feel his blush deepen even further as she keeps staring at him, her expression absolutely unreadable. "I knew it," she triumphs, raising her chin up in the air, and it makes Kurt feel like she's looking down on him even when it's the exact opposite, "so what do you have? Dildos? Vibrators? Plugs? I bet you have one of those..."

"Shut up!" Kurt cries, placing his fingers in his ears and singing loudly enough that he can't hear her words. Only when she rips his arms down does he stop singing, but ready to continue should she go back to listing every imaginable toy out there.

"Fine, fine," she says, holding her hands up in surrender, though he can tell she hasn't given the issue up just yet. The next time he goes back home he will find a much better hiding place for his little shoe-box under the bed. Under the sink behind the cleaning supplies in his personal bathroom maybe?

"So..." Kurt draws out, unsure of what to say. "So why are you really here? I'm sure you didn't drive all the way out here just to go through my drawers?"

Lauren snorts, waving him off with an 'of course not.' It doesn't satisfy his curiosity though, because it doesn't answer or explain _anything_.

"I came here to fuck you."

...And okay, he _really hadn't_ been expecting that.

"Wha-?" Kurt questions, tilting his head to the side, praying he just heard her wrong.

"Look Hummel, Puck's hot and all, but he's _weak_. He was fallowing me like some sad puppy after just a few minutes." Lauren explains, staring straight into his wide open and unbelieving eyes. "I need someone I can break, and the only one I could think of that's strong enough not to give in to me immediately is you. So, I'm here to fuck you until you're pretty little mouth is begging for me."

Okay, so his ears had been functioning properly apparently.

That doesn't mean he understands it though.

But he _is_ intrigued. He can't deny that.

"You do remember I'm gay, right?" he asks her, eyebrow raised and questioning.

"Yeah, like I can forget about those skirts or the corset. Ever."

"And that you have absolutely nothing that I'm interested in?" he continues on, undeterred.

"Don't be so sure about that," she teases him mischievously.

Kurt isn't sure at all if he wants to know, but he must admit that his curiosity is peaked. "Really?" he drawls.

"Yup. Brought with me a strap-on. Huge as fuck and will probably satisfy even a little size-queen like you."

Ignoring the jab Kurt focuses more on the first part of her explanation, blushing once more hearing she brought a fucking _strap-on_ into his dorm. His dorm, for crying out loud!

"You..." he begins, shaking his head despondently, breathing heavily through his nose. He isn't exactly angry at her, just frustrated and... well, he's horny as hell. "So, what?" he asks instead, changing the topic before there's incriminating evidence of his interest showing through the loose slacks he's wearing. "You want to break me? What makes you think I'm hard to break in the first place?"

"Oh please," she waves off, like it's obvious. "You were in that place for years, listening to those kids throw every imaginable slur at you about you and your oh so precious clothes, and you never changed a single thing about yourself. Anybody else in that school would've broken years earlier, pleading for a transfer that you didn't even want in the end, or am I wrong?"

And when she puts it like that Kurt might think she sort of has a point, that he might be strong after all. And she is definitely right about one thing; he most certainly didn't want to change schools, not even after what Karofsky had done to him and threatened him with. It was only his father's pleading eyes that had made him agree to it, had he gotten to choose himself without anyone giving him their opinion he would've stayed and endured everything thrown his way.

"Okay, fine," he concedes. Then he smirks. "But if I'm so 'strong', what makes you think you can break me?"

"That Hummel, is why I'm challenging you to this in the first place. Because I don't have any idea at all at how to do it. That's why it's intriguing at all." Lauren smiles, the first _real_ smile Kurt has ever seen her wear, and momentarily it takes him aback, wondering if he should maybe worry after all.

But when he thinks about her offer more closely, Kurt honestly can't think of any reason _not_ to go through with it.

"And by the way Hummel," Lauren adds, back to her usual uncaring and uninterested expression. "If you do decide to go through with this, I will make sure that by next semester McKinley will be safe enough for you to return without needing to worry about a single thing. And that stands for whether or not I manage to break you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Kurt wonders bewildered. As far as he knows there's nothing that could possibly make those jocks lay off him, their hatred for him too deep-rooted to just give up like that.

"Like I told you, they're weak. It'll be a cake walk. Now, are you up for this or not. I'd like to get home and reprogram my computer if you aren't."

Mind soaring with possibilities Kurt nods. "You should've lead with that argument though," Kurt tells her, shrugging his shoulder. "I would've agreed much quicker."

"I know, but where's the fun in watching you squirm like the little virgin you are?"

Kurt flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine, maybe so," he admits. "But by the way, there's no way you're making me beg. Just so you know."

"Is that a challenge?" Lauren asks, her eyes twinkling with possibilities.

"Yup," is all Kurt answers.

After that he just stands there, watching her and waiting for her to tell him what to do next, unsure with what it is she wants from him exactly.

"What are you waiting for Hummel?" Lauren asks bored, turning around to dig through her bag. "Get out of those ridiculous clothes and get yourself ready. I sure as hell won't prep you."

And when Kurt sees the impossibly thick, foot-long dildo she's apparently attaching to the harness she's picking up next, he is quick to loose the uniform, throwing them haphazardly into the corner. Gaga, does he want that thing inside him or what? It's positively _huge_, and no matter what Kurt's trying to tell himself, he sort of _is_ a bit of a size-queen.

The toys back home are all on the bigger side of the spectrum after all.

Stark naked Kurt rummages through his little 'emergency kit' from his messenger bag, pulling out the small travel-sized bottle of lube he always keeps in it, ever hopeful, and slathers half of it onto his fingers, starting immediately with two as he leans over the bed.

He knows that Lauren can see him – that she probably _is_, with rapt attention to boot – but he can't give a damn, the surge of need to have that blessed toy pounding inside him like there's no tomorrow... _Fuck_.

With that though Kurt swiftly pushes a third finger inside, stretching his fingers out and relaxing as much as possible. His muscles are positively thrumming with anticipation, yielding quickly around him, making his little finger slide inside easily.

It isn't soon until he's drawing his fingers out and turning back to the big girl observing him contentedly from his desk chair. Unlike him she's fully clothed, but to Kurt it strangely fits. After all, she's there to _break him_, not to get cozy. Control freak like she is she probably gets off on being the one demanding things out of him just as well, trying to make him beg for her. She probably doesn't even need the physical stimulation to get satisfied; him pleading will most likely have her reeling with her ultimate form of pleasure, won't it?

"I'm ready," Kurt tells her, challenging her with his darkened eyes to get on with this already, if she isn't too scared to.

Like he expected she snarls at him, ordering him to bend over the fucking desk as she stands up abruptly, anger flaring in her eyes. Kurt only smiles, and does as she commanded of him, raising his ass up as much as humanly possible, taunting her by shaking his hips and making his cheeks jingle ever so slightly.

Then there's fingers digging into his hips, stilling him effectively as he groans out. Lauren places a hand round his neck, forcing his face down against the wood before she even begins to trace his cleft with the toy.

He's thankful for the cool wood he's leaning on when she begins breaching him; despite whatever toy he plays with back home he actually hasn't been quite as stretched as he is at the moment, and the contact his cheek, nose and temple is making with the flat surface grounds him, keeping him from spewing out every little plea his body wants him to.

And that would mean Lauren wins, and that she'll be ever so disappointed in his incapacity of remaining strong, which was why she even came to him in the first place, apparently. So he bites all noise off, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, hard enough to draw the faintest drop of blood, the acidic taste of it flooding his mouth as he feels himself getting filled beyond recognition.

His hands clenching around the edges of the desk Kurt begins to push his hips and ass back, impaling himself even further, taunting Lauren the only way he knows without choking out every little begging word in his body.

She immediately bristles, pushing into him harder than before, actually fucking him now rather than just leisurely moving inside him like she had before. Probably to ease him through the initial penetration.

Kurt would be touched if he wasn't so hungry for it.

...He probably wouldn't be touched anyway. He's never liked taking things slow.

He's being rocked back-and-forth into the unyielding wood of the desk, it's sharp lines digging into the flesh of his stomach and upper chest and leaving more than one mark for later, but Kurt doesn't mind, not when he's being plugged up so splendidly.

Lauren is hitting his prostate perfectly with almost every little punishing stroke into his willing hole, and if she knew how much pleasure she was actually providing him with she would probably fume with frustration, knowing there was nothing she could do about it. The dildo is so fucking huge it's almost impossible for it to miss that precious little bundle of nerves that's making Kurt see stars.

It isn't long at all until he comes for the first time, not having been touched once as his hot and sticky cum splatters onto the floor and the bottom of his desk, with him panting raggedly through his amazing orgasm. He can feel Lauren ease herself out as he calms down, splaying himself better onto the desk as his racing heart slows.

When he's finally composed himself enough to turn around Lauren is raising a pleased eyebrow at him, not saying a thing but obviously wanting to continue. There's no physical way for Kurt to say no to more of those astonishing orgasms, so he simply asks her how she wants him.

With his elbows and knees on the bed – one leg bent under his body to expose more of him to Lauren – she enters him again, this time not caring in the least about taking it slow. Kurt isn't even hard yet but feels the need to moan out his appreciation of her rough and rapid movements.

"That's the hardest you can fuck me?" he asks instead, stammering out some of his words when she brushes his oversensitive prostate and sending sharp tingles up his spine. "Pathetic."

Lauren is quick to up the ante of her movements; pounding his ass so hard he sees fireworks before his eyes. He's knocked off his elbows as she rocks into him, falling instead onto his shoulders – but in the end it's so much better. So, _so _much better.

She's hitting angles she couldn't before, despite how massive the toy is, finding places that shouldn't exist, and Kurt is only hard for a few cherished minutes before he blows again, his ragged panting once again the only sound ringing through the room when the slap of skin on skin disappears once again.

"Won't you hurry up and just beg, Hummel?" Lauren asks him as she waits for him to get a grip. "I do have other places to be, no matter how hot it'll be to hear you plead."

Kurt can't bring himself to answer, only shakes his head a few times bemusedly. He's beginning to get tired, but if she wants to fuck him again there's nothing he will say or do to stop her.

When she drags him out of the bed and shoves him towards a piece of bare wall Kurt only allows it, his muscles weak but eager to have more of those pleasurable sparks shoot through them. Once more she enters him, her pace even faster than before, and he only hangs on, his head lolling as she fucks him tirelessly.

Then suddenly she slows, then stops, and Kurt whirls his head around, watching her eyes scrunch up, wrinkles forming on her forehead, obviously deep in thought. He swallows hard when she grins, a wicked smile grazing her lips.

"Oh, I've got you figured out now Hummel..." she murmurs devilishly.

When she begins to move again none of her previously hurried pace is left, instead replaced by these tortuously slow and careful thrust, barely enough to make him feel it with how loose and pliant he's gotten after two mind-blowing orgasms.

But she had managed to get him hard for a third time before the interruption and his dick is positively _aching_, so sensitive from coming so much in so little time, and Kurt is starting to get antsy.

"Are you trying to fuck me or put me to sleep?" Kurt asks, trying to rile her up enough to fuck him properly, knowing she's got him where she wants him. He's not far off at all from pleading when she's teasing him like this, and he's certain that she knows the effect she's having on him like this. "I'm not sure if I can tell like this."

She doesn't say a thing, only keeps leisurely thrusting inside, teasing his inner walls more than pleasuring him, making Kurt bristle with want for more.

"Guess you're too tired to fuck me into the begging pile of mess you want, are you sure you don't want to reschedule?" Kurt tries once more, desperate to get her to give it to him, but not wanting to give in just yet. "Or maybe you're just too lazy. Hmm, am I right?"

Soon Kurt is so close to the edge of begging that he's throwing out every little taunt he can think of to get her to move faster so that he can finally come. He'd tried to reach down and rub himself off – thrice actually – but she had only patiently smacked his hand away, refusing him his release, and making Kurt bite down on his already bleeding lip again.

"Okay fine!" he finally shouts, turning his neck around and glaring into her burning eyes. "Please fuck me! Fuck me so hard I'll feel it into next year! Please, please, _please_, just fucking move already! What the hell will I have to say to get you to freaking move? Pretty, pretty please, punish my sore and abused little hole and make me take it, make me hurt, make me just take it, just _please_ _move already_!" he screams out, glad that the walls are thick and virtually soundproof as he begins sobbing brokenly. "Please..."

Finally satisfied Lauren draws her hips back and positively _rams_ her way inside, burying herself as far as she can get before doing the same thing once more, twice more, finally setting up the same frantic pace of before.

Kurt alternates between sobbing and wailing out his approval, begging and urging her on to fuck him even harder still.

"Yes!" he howls, shaking against the walls as his knees buckle under him, her arms around his middle and the fake cock buried deep into his ass the only things holding up at this point. "Yes, please, harder, please fuck me harder! Yes, oh, oh, _oh_!"

And finally, after who knows how long does Kurt come, painting the wall before him with long white ribbons of come, and he watches them trickle down the surface through slitted eyes as Lauren slows to a halt inside him.

Kurt is almost certain that she carries him to the bed after that, at the very least knowing he didn't get there on his own, not with his muscles feeling like jelly and his mind hazy from coming his brains out three times in less than two hours.

"Told you I could make you beg," Lauren grins smugly at him, clearly enjoying her accomplishment.

Kurt weakly rolls his eyes. "That's only because you cheated," he mumbles out tiredly, finding himself suddenly and completely exhausted.

"Yeah, sure I did," Lauren responds flatly, "whatever floats your boat. Just know that I got my way and made you beg like a wanton little whore, breaking you like a puppy wanting his treat and got your little virgin ass in the process."

"Mhmm," Kurt hums, only half listening to her words as he floats away to the lands of the sleeping. "Just lock the door on the way out, I'm gonna take a nap now."

"See you 'round Hummel." Lauren begs goodbye. "And remember, come January you'll be free to come back to McKinley. Will finally get me out of that godforsaken club as well..."

* * *

><p>On the other side of the door the black-haired boy carefully shuts the door behind him, tip-toeing his way down the hall quickly with his slacks obviously tented.<p>

He had originally gone over to Kurt's dorm to make him stop studying as hard and tediously as he'd had been, but what he found had definitely been so much better than the sight he had expected.

Now only what to do with the situation in his pants...


	10. Cooper

**Pairing: Kurt/Cooper.**

**Prompt: Kurt meets Cooper in New York. He perhaps doesn't realize at first that the sexy older man he's sleeping with is his ex's older brother.**

**Words: 4075**

**Kinks: Frotting, slight handjob.**

**AN: AU where Kurt haven't met Blaine's brother in 3x15. Also, more plot than actual smut...**

* * *

><p>Kurt loves Central Park. Ever since first stepping into the huge park when moving to New York six months earlier the pale countertenor has always adored the comfortable atmosphere of it. He loves just walking around; the tall, beautiful trees towering over him, the high, marvelous chirps of birds flying high above him, and that's not to mention the thousands upon thousands of people visiting the place every day that he enjoys watching so much.<p>

He has always been a people-watcher, has always found so much joy in just letting his eyes gaze around him and take in other peoples happiness – and of course the unfortunately too common bouts of sadness, grief or other tragic expressions, but he mostly chooses to ignore that – and creating little stories about why they're so blissful. It's a peaceful activity, and something he's been indulging himself with possibly a little bit too much since arriving to the city, but eh, it isn't hurting anybody so he doesn't really care about that.

This particular day Kurt hadn't been required to come into work until after two, so he'd decided to take a little walk in the park until then, enjoying the crystal white snow that had recently covered the usually vibrant green park completely. Kurt really didn't mind the change, he adored the snow. Not only did it allow him to wear more of his layering outfits – not to mention his scarves – but it was just so beautiful to look at. How wonderful the way the branches of the trees looked when they were absolutely coated with snow and hung lower because of the heavy weight, or how the ground was crunching beneath his feet as he walked down the path.

He'd been walking down the swirling paths of the park for the better part of an hour when he first realized how much his feet were hurting; his new boots weren't properly broken in yet and had a tendency to chafe if he wore them for too long. An hour was more than long enough, and Kurt was certain he had the beginning of a small blister on the heel of his foot by now. How he hadn't noticed earlier was a mystery, because now that he's taken notice of it he can't focus on anything else it seems.

Lightly limping his way over to the nearest bench Kurt sits down and takes a breath, trying to assert the damage to his foot without removing his boot. Well familiar with breaking in new shoes Kurt knows that if he is proven right and that he does in fact now sport a blister it would be absolute hell to try and get the boot back on, so thus, attempting to find out any injuries without removing them.

In the end Kurt figures he's right about the blister, any movement of his foot making a small ache rush up from his heel, and Kurt heaves a sigh at his bad luck. He settles back into the hard bench, needing to relax a few minutes before he'll go off to hail a cab or something.

There is no way he's braving the subway with an injured foot, however small – or heaven forbid, trying to _walk_ all they way home.

Around him there's dozens of little kids playing; small snowballs flying everywhere without any semblance of coordination from exhilarated children, there's a bunch of girls somewhat behind him making snow angel after snow angel, and there's more than one group of kids trying their mitten-covered hands at making the perfect snowmen. Scattered around the other benches Kurt can see their parents smiling at them all fondly, before they turn back to their spouses, friends or phones, satisfied that their kids aren't getting into all sorts of mischief.

Kurt smiles too; a soft, sad little smile remembering back to when that was his parents watching him playing in the much smaller park back in Lima. Remembering times when things were so much simpler, when choosing whether making snow angels or snowmen had been his biggest troubles. Nowadays he's the grown-up himself, and the decisions he needs to make are those of a whole other character. Decisions for work, how to split up his wager so that he can afford and pay all of the bills for the month as well as keeping himself and Rachel fed... How exactly to tell Blaine that he doesn't really see them getting back together again, and that he prefers them being friends much more than boyfriends or lovers. At least at the moment.

Shaking his head at his depressing thoughts Kurt looks back at the kids before him, watching them laugh as they pelt each other with the plentiful and wet snow, how some of them are absolutely covered with it and grinning mirthfully himself at their elated expressions.

Suddenly there's something pawing at his leg, and when he looks down startled he finds his eyes trained on a hairy, dark brown, little bundle of a puppy, a matching brown leather leash trailing behind it on the ground. It's tiny tongue is lolling out of it's mouth as it pants and shiny, dark eyes looking back up at him as it scrabbles at him with it's paws and yips, now leaning up at Kurt with his front paws, practically begging Kurt to pet it.

"Hi there," he coos at the puppy, reaching to scratch it behind it's dangling ears, giggling when it leans into his touch and yips once more. "Who are you little buddy?" he asks the pup, looking around for possible owners. "And where is your family?" he continues when he finds nobody around looking particularly worried from loosing their dog.

Picking the tiny thing up and setting it in his lap Kurt continues scratching behind the happy little dog's ear, still watching out for somebody, anyone, seeming like they're looking for this little pup. He can't think it's abandoned or anything; not only does he have that leash clipped onto it's new-looking collar, but it is far too well-fed to not belong to anybody. Most likely it just took off when it's owner wasn't looking, and is now lost and simply searching for any friendly face to play with.

And that just happened to be Kurt today. Not that he minds in the least about that – he likes dogs, had always begged his father for one when he was young but never actually receiving one, and as he grew up he just stopped pleading for it, resolving to wait until he could afford to take care of one himself.

He knows that most of his friends would be surprised and taken aback seeing him at that moment, holding on to that little pup and not caring in the least about the clusters of brown hair being shed onto his clothes, but Kurt honestly doesn't care about that. Clothes can always be washed after all, and doggy hair isn't all that damaging to his wardrobe.

It doesn't hurt that he isn't wearing any of his designer pieces at the moment either.

It doesn't take the pup long until it's dozing off in his lap, probably feeling warm and comfortable in Kurt's hold, and Kurt only smiles at the little heap of brown fur sleeping on his legs. He's very much content to just sit there and stroke it's soft fur as he continues keeping a watchful eye out for any potential owners. If nobody shows up by the time he needs to get home he'll just bring his new friend with him, and he'll put up a few posters after work.

He's lucky however, because not ten minutes passes before there's a loud voice shouting a few hundred feet away, and the puppy that was just sleeping mere moments earlier is leaping off his lap and bundling it's way towards this tall man calling it's name.

"There you are, Squirt!" the tall man laughs relieved, picking the pup up and hugging it close in his arms. Kurt watches on from his seat on the bench, happy that the pup did indeed find it's owner – or however it was. "Don't you ever run off from me again, do you hear me?" the mystery man continues sternly, as if the pup was actually listening to his rant. Kurt smiles broadly, hands covering his mouth as he realizes his teeth is showing, but unable to stop smiling anyway. That man was just too adorable for his own good.

The puppy barks once before it starts to wriggle in the man's hold, and when back down on the ground the pup hurdles back towards Kurt, yipping and barking as it circles his legs before splaying it's hind legs out and sitting flat down on it's bottom, tongue lolling out ever still.

Looking back up at the man that has walked his way over Kurt is surprised to find just how _attractive_ this man is. Startlingly blue eyes are gazing back at him, a charming grin grazing the man's lips and that's only mentioning his face...

"Hi, so I take it you found Squirt here?" the man asks him, reaching out his hand towards Kurt. "I'm Cooper."

"Kurt," he answers, taking the offered hand and shaking it twice. "Would you like to sit?" he asks awkwardly, not wanting the gorgeous man to leave just yet, not that the man has given him any reason to think he is.

"Sure," Cooper smiles.

* * *

><p>An hour and a half later Kurt finds himself with a new number on his phone and a hot date for that night after work. He's smiling wide as he watches Cooper's hips sway teasingly as he walks away, little Squirt tumbling around and in between his feet happily.<p>

(He's also been told that the puppy is named after his brother, though Kurt can't believe Cooper's brother is really named Squirt, and is instead only a nickname. Hopefully it is only a nickname, for the unknown other man's sake anyway.)

He's holding his phone up to his ear as he walks away merrily, the pain on his heel completely forgotten at the moment.

"Hey Rach, I have marvelous news..."

* * *

><p>It had been a wonderful date. They had met at the agreed upon restaurant where they'd shared a fun and simple Italian dinner – still a whole other class than the stuff they serve at Breadstix back home – before taking a long walk through the streets of New York. They'd talked about anything and everything, sharing fun stories about themselves and learning stuff about each other.<p>

Kurt had a strong inkling of how fun and charming Cooper was just after their meeting in the park, but after sharing the whole night with the older man Kurt understood just _how_ fun and charming Cooper truly was.

Kurt was literally swooning for this man.

Even when they reached Cooper's apartment neither of them had been ready for the night to be over, which might explain why they're both rushing their way through the apartment after a half-drunken cup of coffee, Squirt dashing in and out between their feet until he's sent away to his own bed.

Tumbling their way into the bedroom Kurt pulls Cooper with him to the positively massive bed residing in the middle of it, his knees catching on the mattress and sending him falling onto it, Cooper fallowing and landing on top of him as Kurt refuses to let go of the taller man. Kurt would chuckle if he wasn't being pressed down against the bedding with a ridiculously hot man nibbling at the juncture of his throat.

It had been _so_ long since somebody had done anything like this to him.

Moaning hotly Kurt drags his hands down Cooper's shirt-clad back, before tugging the fabric up and away so he can get access to the warm skin below it, caressing it with his nails and fingertips as Cooper continues worshiping his throat and collarbone.

"Clothes- off," Kurt chokes out, pawing at Coopers back and pushing the shirt up even further, finally removing it when the taller man sits up, his own fallowing moments later and leaving them both with bare and heaving chests.

Kurt can't help but stare at Cooper's naked skin; letting his eyes fallow the hard lines of his glorious pecs and abs, his mouth watering as he imagines himself tonguing those alluring muscles. He can't believe his luck, that somebody this impossibly sexy is willing to sleep with _him_, who is just some boy from backwards Ohio.

"God, you're hot," Kurt hears Cooper mutter, and when their eyes meet Kurt takes in just how blackened and wild those bright blue orbs have turned in just seconds. Mouth wide and unbelieving Kurt let's out a low groan before launching himself at this _God_ before him, attacking Coopers luscious lips with his own and pushing the other man down on his back, straddling him and refusing their lips to part.

Licking his way into Cooper's delicious mouth Kurt sighs happily, whining softly when he can feel a nimble tongue tracing his own as he explores. His fingers are splayed wide and stroking Cooper's broad shoulders and chest, his fingers catching over peaking nipples and causing shivers to ripple through the body below him. Grinning happily Kurt sinks even further into the kiss, pinching and twisting the sensitive, little buds and making Cooper writhe beneath him, releasing sweet noises into Kurt's mouth.

Shifting his knees around to get even closer Kurt is happily surprised at what he finds, and breaking himself away from Cooper's mouth he grinds is ass back down, the two of them groaning lowly when the older man's thick length drags against his crack through their pants. Cooper's big hands reach up and settle low on his hips, helping him to rock down a dozen or so more times as Kurt throws his head back and arches his back, his own cock bristling with need against the zipper of his jeans.

Eager to get even better access to these pleasurable feelings their stumbled movements provide Kurt reaches down between them and fumbles with the wide belt Cooper's wearing, his deft fingers unable to get it open, making him whine frustratedly. Luckily Cooper doesn't seem to be trembling as much as he is himself, so he settles with just sitting down beside him and watches as Cooper cheekily undresses himself, seductive eyes glancing at him as he removes the pants all together and leaves him completely bare for Kurt to observe.

Cooper is absolutely stunning; not only is his body the most beautiful and sexy thing Kurt's ever seen, but his supple thighs and his long, thick dick is simply making his brain melt from how gorgeous he is. He wants to touch that, wants to wrap his hands around that fat shaft as he sucks mark after mark into those delectable thighs.

He wants to _suck_ that cock deep into his own drooling throat. He wants to have it _fuck_ him. He wants to fuck_ Cooper_.

"Your turn," Cooper mischievously reminds him, grinning broadly as Kurt remembers himself and blushes, not believing he had been staring for so long, imagining himself being impaled every which way by the man before him.

He complies anyway, unbuttoning his ever so tight jeans and slowly shimmying his way out of them. It's not because he's teasing or anything; as much fun as it has been wearing something so sinfully tight and having Cooper stare at his ass for the entire evening it's nothing but a bitch getting out of them, especially when as hard as he currently is – thus, shimmying.

Finally throwing the denim behind himself Cooper is quick to smash their lips back together, cupping his head and tilting him up, closer. Kurt moans when their tongues delve together, dueling once more for dominance, but it isn't long until he surrenders, allowing Cooper to explore his mouth this time.

Settling back into the pillows Kurt drags Cooper on top of him, feels him straddle his thin and narrow hips as they thrust up against each other, their lips never parting from the other's. Tangling his long fingers into Cooper's mussed hair Kurt looses himself into the kiss and the frantic movements between their naked and sweat-slick bodies.

"Oh, Cooper," Kurt moans as Cooper drags against him so perfectly, hitching his legs up around the older man's waist and pulling him even closer. "Yes, like that, uh, oh, so perfect, please," he pleads, throwing his head back as Cooper thrusts against him even faster, making them rock up against the headboard.

"Feels so good Kurt," Cooper pants into his ear, suckling at his earlobe when he can. "W-won't last much longer, feels too good."

"Me neither," Kurt admits, clinging on tightly as he feels pleasurable sparks shoot up his spine, little tingles fluttering low in his gut. "Please, touch me."

He can feel Cooper move around him, jostling him slightly and making him whine when Cooper isn't as close or moving against him as splendidly, but when talented fingers wrap around his leaking length he doesn't care much, only grunts when he can feel his orgasm start to rush up on him.

Kneading his heels into Cooper's lower back and ass, his fingers clawing red marks into the other man's back Kurt comes between them, his thick and sticky cum splashing against their stomachs and chests and all over Cooper's hand. He can feel Cooper shaking against his hip, and soon he can feel something hot and wet hitting his skin, coating him thoroughly as Cooper comes as well, burying his face into Kurt's neck and breathing heavily as they both come down from their highs.

Kurt eases his legs down from their position around Cooper's back, allowing the older man to fall down beside him. It isn't long until Kurt's snuggling himself down into the warmth of Cooper's chest, strong arms closing around him and drawing him nearer still. He can feel Cooper's heartbeat under his ear, and he's painting swirls and other patterns lazily against Cooper's taut skin as they just lie together.

"So-" Cooper begins, but is interrupted by a loud note ringing through the room. From the floor they notice Cooper's pants glowing as his phone rings, and with an apology Cooper eases himself out of the bed and picks the phone up, leaving the bedroom as he answers the call.

Kurt can distantly hear him mumble into the phone, but the soft and relaxing mattress below him is far too enjoyable for him to fallow Cooper out or even to try and listen in. Instead he just lets himself float on the verge of sleep as he waits for Cooper to come back.

His eyes are almost closed, thin little slits allowing him to take in parts of the room he didn't notice earlier. Like the big mirror standing against the wall beside the equally big dresser on the right side of the bed. Like the huge TV hanging on the wall before him. Like the bedside table that's absolutely ladled with pictures.

Familiar pictures.

Eyes suddenly wide open Kurt stares at the photographs just as Cooper returns and jumps his way into the bed, jostling Kurt out of his confused panic.

"So, that was my brother – his name's Blaine by the way, don't know if I told you that earlier – and he just told me that his boyfriend broke up with him," Cooper rambles out, and Kurt stiffens beside him, refusing to look at the older man. "Not that they were even together for a while now, I think they broke up a few months back actually... But anyway! So the guy called him today and told him they wouldn't get back together again, and while my baby brother doesn't seem so surprised or even sad about it I just want to wring the neck of that guy. I mean, I know my brother cheated on him, and that that's why they broke up in the first place, and that they're in different parts of the country, but Blainer's my brother and nobody get's to hurt him. No one."

Kurt can feel Cooper bristling beside him, and his heart is racing wildly. If only Cooper knew it was actually _him_ that had been dating Blaine...

Blaine was Cooper's brother... Cooper was Blaine's brother...

Why did these things always happen to Kurt?

"Actually-" Kurt begins, knowing he has to tell Cooper sooner rather than later. He can't just shut up about it, he _really_ likes Cooper; he's charming, and funny, and smart – not to mention absolutely gorgeous and sexy – and he likes animals just like Kurt... Things have been over with Blaine for a while now, and he really does want a chance with Cooper who he can see himself share a future with – but none of that can happen if he doesn't tell him who he is. "Actually... _I_ am Blaine's ex. I'm the one that called Blaine earlier today, just a few hours after you asked me out really, and told him he shouldn't wait for us to get back together..."

Kurt can't bring himself to look at the man beside him, too nervous about what Cooper would say or do now that he knew. Hopefully he would only tell Kurt to get the hell out of his apartment, and not actually wring his neck like he'd said he would minutes earlier...

"So what, you saw me and decided to mess with both me and my brother by going out and sleeping with me?" Cooper asks incredulously, and Kurt whips his head up frantically, because no, just, _no._

"What? No, no, no, no, _no_." Kurt splutters out, shaking his head and reaching out for Cooper's hand, holding it tightly in his when Cooper attempts to draw it away. "No, Cooper, I didn't think that, how can you ever think so, no. Honestly, before today I only knew that Blaine had a brother. He never once talked about him, or even told me his name – your name apparently – and I haven't ever seen a picture of you. Until I saw those pictures of Blaine on your nightstand," Kurt gestures with his hand, "I didn't knew just _who_ you were, who you are to Blaine. You have to know that, and please believe me when I say I'm not lying. Please," Kurt adds meekly, willing Cooper to understand.

He just really likes Cooper, and really wants to go out on a second, third, tenth, maybe even fiftieth date with him. He really needs Cooper to believe him when he says he didn't plan this, didn't want to hurt either of them.

"...Okay," Cooper mumbles eventually, and Kurt's tense shoulders sags – he's unexplainably relieved hearing that.

"Thank you," he whispers, looking down at the bed.

They don't say much after that, laying down on either side of the bed, Kurt agonizing over the space between them until Cooper shuffles himself over and closer to Kurt. Then he only sighs happily, burrowing himself into the older man's neck and drags his lips over his neck, too frightened to actually kiss the skin before him, afraid that Cooper would tell him off for it after what happened earlier.

Cooper only hugs him more tightly, burying his nose into Kurt's hair and staying there as they fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Things are awkward the fallowing morning, but Kurt doesn't expect anything less, not when it's found out that he's slept with both of two brother's without even knowing it beforehand.<p>

However, that's only until Cooper sets a mug of steaming hot coffee before him, his blue eyes twinkling as he looks at Kurt.

"So," he drawls out cheekily. "I guess the Anderson brothers really_ are_ irresistible."

Kurt can't even deny it, nor get mad about it, not after the previous night, so he only smiles shyly and ducks his head down to bury himself into his cup of coffee.

Around him Cooper's joyous laughter ring out, only to be accompanied by tiny, little howls from an excited Squirt, leaving Kurt with no other choice but feeling hopeful that this might work out no matter how poorly it started out.


	11. Sam

**Pairing: Kurt/Sam.**

**Prompt: Their wedding night.**

**Words: 3893**

**Kinks: Hand job, fingering, anal, bareback.**

**AN: So a year ago I couldn't write smut without it getting so overtly fluffy it was revolting... Now I can't get this to be as fluffy as I want it, but I manage to make it smutty, smutty, smutty instead... How times change.**

* * *

><p>Kurt had always dreamed of the perfect winter wedding; of beautiful snowflakes falling slowly and serenely to the ground outside the window as he and his perfect guy would try and fail to keep their tears at bay while the other said their home made vows. He had dreamed of the classic color schemes that would go with the season, always going back to the classic of white, red and hints of gold that he'd adored since being a toddler and going to his aunt's Christmas wedding. He had later dreamed of an elegant three-story red velvet cake – of feeding his then very much imaginary husband a small bite of it with his fingers and having him licking the frosting of his fingertips, making him blush and smile sweetly...<p>

And tonight? Well, tonight that, and more, had finally come true. He and his wonderful Sam had finally gotten married; they had walked hand in hand up the aisle, both of their fathers one step behind ready to leave them away to each other; and saying their vows they had both cried – they had both laughed – but more importantly, they had both expressed their deep love for each other. And after that they had kissed; a surprisingly rather chaste – but long – kiss, that had Kurt loose his breath momentarily as they heard people cheering around them.

During their reception they had fallowed through with all of the usual cliches – bar one, of course. Kurt had made Sam swear to not smear a single drop of the cake into his face when the time came to feed each other with it, threatening him to withhold sex from the former jock for months if he did, and Sam had hastily and vehemently assured Kurt that he would _never. _They had the classic first waltz – Sam had taken lessons specifically for this – they threw a small bouquet of roses and baby's breath to a crowd of awaiting single ladies – together, of course, breaking any presumptuous stereotyping going on in some guests minds – and they had speech after embarrassing and heartfelt speech recited to them.

There had been so many other things going on as well, but Kurt really couldn't remember anything past being held in the strong arms of his new husband, dancing the night away, lost to anything else happening around them. He could only remember feeling so happy, so _so _happy, in the embrace of the man he loved.

And now they were at last closing the hotel door behind them closed, having escaped more or less unseen from the still remaining guests ten minutes ago as they snuck their way upstairs clutching the other's hand tightly in their own.

Kurt couldn't remember ever being as happy as right then when he felt Sam crowding him against the door, locking their lips together and just letting them both melt against each other. Kurt moaned appreciatively as Sam licked his way into his mouth, mapping out the already familiar depths of Kurt's warm and wet cave before finally tangling his tongue around the other's nimble one. Hands were pawing wildly across the other's clothed chest and arms and hips and waist before finally ripping off their tux jackets to get that much closer.

It wasn't until Sam rested his hands on Kurt's hips and Kurt slipped his arms around Sam's neck that they calmed, the frantic pace from merely seconds ago forgotten as they just relished being so close to the other, simply breathing in the other's presence. Keeping their eyes closed they just stayed where they were, occasionally nudging the other one's cheek with their nose and letting soft giggles fade into the room around them.

At last Kurt let out a soft sigh and fluttered his eyes open, looking into the ever intriguing green of his lovers warm eyes, a happy smile spreading across his face as he fell further and further into their depth.

"Hi," he finally smiled.

"Hi," Sam replied, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind Kurt's ear before palming his jaw, stroking the soft skin of Kurt's rosy cheek gently with his thumb. "You're so beautiful," Kurt heard the blonde murmur quietly before leaning in and kissing him on the nose, making Kurt chuckle as he blushed cutely.

"Mm, I am, ain't I?" he grinned cheekily, squealing loudly when Sam poked his ribs playfully, causing them both to laugh. "You know you're absolutely stunning too though, don't you?" Kurt smiled, nosing his way against Sam's neck, circling his chest with his arms and just cuddling himself close to the other man, inhaling his intoxicating and familiar scent, listening to his heartbeat. "God, I love you," he sighed blissfully against Sam's lightly tanned skin, burrowing himself even closer still.

"Love you too, babe," he heard Sam mumble into his hair, causing Kurt to smile gently as they hugged themselves tighter against the other man.

Their night progressed equally as slowly after that; this was their wedding night after all, it was supposed to be one of the most special nights of their life – if not _the_ most important. It wasn't supposed to be like any other rushed and sloppy nights back at their tiny and mediocre Manhattan apartment.

It was supposed to be _memorable_.

Hence, taking it slow; to have the time to cherish each and every small kiss, to devotedly worship every miniscule patch of skin being uncovered, and to relish unabashedly in the faintest of noise they could wring out of their counterpart. And they came in plenty.

It had taken them half an hour to just reach the bed as they continued to stop and trade a generous amount of kisses – both chaste and those that were decidedly _not_ – and then another one before they were out of their clothes, laying on top of the covers in just their boxers and staring reverently into the other's eyes, their hands resting clasped together between them as they just laid there. Kurt could repeatedly feel Sam's calloused thumb run over his knuckles – each simple touch making him shiver so pleasantly as he lost himself in the pools of green before him.

Kurt wasn't sure if he could stop smiling even if he was paid to, he was just far too happy.

Closing his eyes and leaning forward Kurt captured Sam's plump lips with his own, gently prying them apart so he could suck the lower one into his own mouth, nibbling it softly with his teeth and extracting a wonderful whine out of the blonde. He could feel Sam's calloused hands travel away from his own, weaving into his hair instead and dragging him closer to the lips he was already devouring.

Not that he minded in the least, no. Kurt was all too happy closing any miniscule distance between their bodies, modeling himself completely against his husband's form, and even grasped his neck with his palm to tilt the younger man's head so they could get even closer still.

Kurt could feel the tiniest movement made between their two bodies; he could feel every twitch Sam's muscles made when he teased the taller man's lips with his mouth or teeth and he could feel the way they both ached and longed when Kurt at last gave in and let Sam twine his tongue together with his own. And he could most definitely feel the way his own nerve endings thrummed with anxious excitement when Sam invaded his mouth and explored his way around inside, licking behind Kurt's teeth and pressing his tongue up against the roof of his mouth – in other words, doing everything he possibly could to drive Kurt absolutely crazy with need and want.

Submitting willingly to the way Sam controlled his mouth Kurt chose to let his hands wander down from where they were resting around Sam's neck, instead stroking and caressing every muscle down the broad back before him, mapping out the already so familiar planes of skin before settling with his hands low on Sam's ass, cupping the clothed cheeks with his palms and just _squeezing_. The reaction he received for it made Kurt preen with pride; the uncontrolled moan Sam supplied to his touch, and the way he blushed so adorably afterwards, abashed in the sounds leaving his tongue. That gorgeous blush that Kurt would always feel the need to kiss every time he came across it, and this time was most definitely no different.

Kissing the blonde man's rosy cheek Kurt basically mauled the supple flesh beneath his fingers, wringing even more delicious noises out of his husband and deepening not only the color on Sam's blush, but also darkening the green of his eyes to almost a stark black. Kurt shivered pleasantly gazing into it.

Pushing his husband onto his back Kurt settled on top of him; plunging his way into his mouth and giving them both goosebumps in the process. He grasped onto Sam's hair and pulled the strands gently, making Sam whine so enjoyably, before sitting up completely and running his fingertips down Sam's golden skin.

Over the collarbone that was so delicious to bite into Kurt's fingers traveled, over the blonde's pecs, down the line of abs that to Kurt's delight hadn't disappeared over the years since they got together in high school – even if they had admittedly softened a little, being cushioned slightly by a slim layer of fat that Kurt couldn't help but adore just as much as the muscles it covered.

All the while Kurt made frequent and grand detours with his admiration of Sam's front to caress either the blonde's face and neck or his stiffened little nipples that were oh so sensitive to the touch. Kurt could spend hours only devoting his focus to those rosy little nubs; biting, licking and just playing with them, doing his utmost to draw every imaginable sound out of his lover with the faintest of touches. Sam's cries of enjoyment at the treatments to his nipples never failed to disappoint him either.

It most certainly didn't this time.

Hooking his long, agile fingers into the waistband of Sam's underwear Kurt inched them down ever so slowly, teasing the blond beauty as well as just enjoying the moment. He dragged the fabric past the slightly tanned hips; pulled them down the strong, chiseled thighs, releasing Sam's gorgeous length free and allowing it to fall against his husband's stomach.

Throwing the fabric over his shoulder Kurt got to work on his own, and soon they were lip-locked once again, their hips rocking up against the other. Kurt wormed a hand down between them and grasped them both in his palm, stroking them in time as they panted into the other's mouth. He could feel the way Sam's hips stuttered up into his hold whenever he dragged his palm over the heads of their dicks, or whenever he would momentarily suckle at the lips sliding against his own.

It didn't take them long for them both to get close to the edge, but as neither was ready for things to be over Kurt regrettably removed his hand away from between them, and slid his way off the man beneath him, instead choosing to lie beside him on the mattress.

"Turn over," Kurt begged, trailing his teeth over the side of his husband's golden neck. "I wanna make love to you, can I?"

Sam only rolled over in response, too busy with moaning and writhing with every little bite from those sharp teeth of Kurt's to properly respond.

Kurt himself suckled his own finger into his mouth, coating it generously in spit before trailing it down to where he wanted it. Spreading Sam's ass-cheeks apart he took in the tight, little pucker and traced it reverently with his fingertip, adding and reducing pressure as he saw fit to draw out every tiny groan from the taller man's throat.

Placing his mouth on Sam's shoulder, instantly sucking it past his lips, Kurt pushed the very fingertip into his husband's taut hole – reveling in the way Sam seemed to try and draw him in closer when he didn't move at first – before dragging it back out.

He knew Sam didn't mind to do this – prepping him, that was – more or less dry from numerous encounters over the years, but it was his wedding night after all, and Kurt wanted to do things proper. So he rolled himself over and searched for what he needed in the bedside table, and – to his amusement – finding a wide spread of not only various kinds of lube and condoms, also multiple kinds of vibrators, dildos and plugs.

All of it most probably courtesy of Santana or Tina.

Or both.

Rolling his eyes he grabbed the first lube he could find, chuckling lowly when he found it to be peach flavored, and made a mental note to try it out in the morning. At the moment though, Kurt wanted nothing more than to please his husband.

Turning back he found Sam looking at him curiously. "Santana," was the only word Kurt offered in explanation, not that any more was needed really, and Sam turned back around with a laugh of his own.

Shuffling in closer Kurt snuck his right arm under Sam's head to let him rest on it, and he hooked Sam's leg around himself, spreading him far apart in the process. After quickly coating himself in the liquid Kurt pushed that first finger back inside, only this time he actually pushed it all the way inside in the first go, relishing the gasp it produced.

Sam usually didn't bottom, as they both preferred it slightly when Kurt did, but whenever they did it like this Kurt would make sure to stretch the blonde plenty – if not with lube then with his tongue or simply his spit – and was always mindful and willing to take his time with it. And it did take time – Sam was always so incredibly tight, Kurt would always wonder how he could ever fit properly, but in the end he always did.

This time was no different. Kurt pushed that sole finger in and out of his husband for many minutes, not even thinking of adding a second before Sam practically begged for it, and even then did he hesitate, worried that they were rushing it.

Tracking his lips over the trembling skin of Sam's neck Kurt found his way to the younger man's earlobe, which he bit into gently, rolling the skin between his teeth as a distraction as he pressed a second digit inside along the first one.

Even though Sam had pleaded for that second, slim finger, he still shuddered momentarily from the slight pain of being stretched wider than he was frankly used to – Kurt could feel it, and hated that pained shudder with a burning passion – but soon he relaxed into it, even rocking his hips back to get Kurt even deeper. And when he shuddered a second time Kurt knew it wasn't from pain, he knew it was from how good it felt when Kurt's fingers scissored inside him, stretching him so gently, so gently.

But Kurt always hated the way Sam would wince whenever that third finger first appeared, abhorred the frown set so deep across his love's forehead that first minute of being stretched so wide; he always wanted to do anything in his might to abate that brief pain, but knew that it was a necessity if Kurt was to be inside his lover at all. He might not be some porn star in the happening, but he was by no way small either, and he'd rather fret agonizingly over how Sam was hurting for that one minute than hurt him worse later.

But once that pain faded Sam was as usual so eager for it; rocking back into every movement Kurt did, writhing and wriggling his way to ensure Kurt would find that one spot that made stars shoot before his eyes. Kurt knew when he'd found it – Sam flailing and stuttering as he pushed himself back was as much a telltale sign as the loud cry passing his lips.

This was the part that Kurt loved and adored like nothing else; the few moments when Sam was so unabashed and wanting, when nothing hurt and everything was just centered around how good Sam was feeling. Nothing else compared, not even being inside Sam later would, and Kurt didn't mind. Not when the sight before him was so spectacular.

However, like everything else the moment couldn't stretch itself out forever no matter how much Kurt wished for it, so when Sam asked him to 'just get inside him, please!' Kurt relented. With a swift kiss to his lover's shoulder he pulled his fingers out, for a short minute enjoying how stretched and wrecked and _open_ Sam felt when he traced his fingertips over his loosened rim. Then he pulled himself back completely, finding the discarded bottle of lube again amongst the sheets and coated himself with it.

"Ready, love?" Kurt asked rutting up against his lover's crack. After receiving an eager nod Kurt took himself in hand and positioned himself to Sam's gaping hole.

Pushing his way inside Kurt felt like his nerve endings were ablaze – the way the sparks of sheer pleasure ran up and down his spine so familiar yet so thrilling and new. He knew that he was most likely leaving his fingertips against Sam's hips with the way he was gripping the supple flesh there, but with the way Sam was arching against him, panting brokenly against his throat when Kurt finally bottomed out Kurt couldn't bare to regret it. Sam was just too beautiful and maybe having his mark displayed wasn't such a bad thing.

Gaga knew Sam had marked him and his marble-white skin plenty in return over the course of their time in the hotel room as well.

"Move Kurt," Sam begged him, turning his head towards him and gazing into his eyes. Kurt was stunned at how dark those eyes were, how filled with lust they were, how much want. So how could he ever refuse what Sam wanted when he looked like that?

Removing his hand from the iron grip on Sam's hip Kurt raised it to cradle Sam's jaw, bringing him closer so he could kiss him. It was messy – they couldn't properly reach each other but they still tried to twine their tongues together – and it got even messier when Kurt finally begun to move like he'd been asked. With the slow rocking of their hips it got even harder to slide their lips together, and soon there was spit everywhere. Not that either of them cared about that, really, they were far too occupied with other matters.

Sam's hand was grappling for purchase against his skin and hair, searching for anything to hold on to as Kurt pushed himself inside a little quicker, a tiny bit harder. In the end Kurt had to grasp the flitting hand in his own when the blonde man came close to poking him in the eye, and he held them together against Sam's chest, so he could feel the rapid heartbeat of Sam's pulsate against them.

Their sweaty and slick bodies slid against the other so perfectly like this; they were so incredibly close and Kurt could feel how every part of his body in some way curled itself around Sam's. Like this he could even feel when every stuttered exhale or moan fell from Sam's red-bitten lips; like this he could feel the blonde's every shudder whenever he managed to enter him at the perfect angle. Like this, Kurt could feel every little ounce of love he had for Sam tenfold because of how precious Sam felt in his embrace.

When Kurt could tell that not only himself, but Sam as well was beginning to get close to coming once more, he took their joined hands and brought them down to where Sam needed them the most. Wrapping their intertwined fingers around the leaking, slick length Kurt helped Sam to stroke himself off, and he bit down lightly on the younger man's neck, willing him to come before himself did.

Snapping his hips forward in time with the strokes of their hands Kurt suckled the red mark before him, soothing it with his tongue, and he listened entranced to the way Sam cried out as he tensed up and spilled messily over both of their hands and the bedspread below them. Thick, white ropes of come falling from the length in his and Sam's hands, a sight that mesmerized Kurt and that he couldn't take his eyes away from, even though it was far from the first time he'd ever experienced it. And the way shudders wracked through the body he held so closely to him as Sam just came more and more and more... it was bewitching to say the least.

It wasn't until Sam began to ever so slowly calm down from the orgasmic high he'd been on that Kurt began to focus on himself and his own completion. Grabbing Sam's hip once again Kurt drove himself forward wildly; using and wrecking the tight hole as he plundered it to his hearts content, finally spilling into it with one last mad dash inside, pushing and straining himself as deep as he could as he came and coated the wet walls around him with a low grunt.

"That's what I call a wedding night," Sam chuckles around a broken whimper as Kurt pulls himself out, and Kurt couldn't help but laugh alongside him.

"It was pretty damned good," Kurt admits, snuggling up against his husband.

"I don't think I could do that every day though," Sam continues, wrapping his arms around Kurt and pulling him closer so that Kurt is tucked up against Sam's chest. "I'm way too sore now. Felt good when you were fucking me though."

Kurt slaps him weakly with a giggle. "Shut up, you. You wanted it and you know it. And besides, you like being sore afterwards, don't try to tell me otherwise Mr. Hummel-Evans."

"You're right Mr. Hummel-Evans," Sam concedes, tilting Kurt's head up to peck him lightly on the lips before wriggling down into the mattress, and Kurt loves the tiny moan Sam lets out when he drags his ass against the bedding under them. "Yeah, you're right," Sam adds smiling, "I do love how sore I am. Like I can feel you inside me still."

"Hmm," Kurt hums.

After that things turn quiet, their joined breathing being the only sound resonating through the room. Kurt just enjoys Sam's closeness as he begins to drift, not able to wait for how married life is going to be. How married life is going to be with _Sam_ of all people.

Kurt knows that he's been given more than anybody can ever request now that he has the blonde man by his side. He has this perfect man for him, Kurt has his _soul mate_, and he will never ever let him go.

Never.


	12. Sebastian

**Pairing: Kurt/Sebastian.**

**Prompt: They fuck on Seb's parents private plane. Joining the mile high club.**

**Words: 4846**

**Kinks: Rimming, fingering, discussion of blowjob, anal, accidental but rather obvious D/s with sub!Kurt.**

**AN: Where does all of the angst come from?! And gee, even when I don't intend to I go all smutty, don't I? Well... enjoy anyway! :)**

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><p>Surprises. The thing that millions of people all over the world adores and loves to experience.<p>

But Kurt? He _hates_ them. It might be because of the clown his parents had surprised him with one his fifth birthday party that had scared him partially to death. It might be because of the daily surprises waiting for him just beyond the corner of every hallway in McKinley High School. No matter the reason however, Kurt has never been fond or even somewhat agreeable when it comes to surprises.

He can barely take not knowing what is hiding in his wrapped presents for Christmas for Christ sake.

Hence why he is majorly sulking in the front seat of his boyfriend's car, blindfold covering his eyes so impeccably that he can't even peek through the material – or under it for that matter. He'd tried getting the knot on the back of his head untied – several times even by now – but it had been to no avail. Not because of his boyfriend's complaining words, but because of the damned boy scout quality of the stupid things.

So – sulking.

Kurt's arms are crossed over his chest and he's facing away from his driving boyfriend, which he knows logically doesn't really make a difference in the end anyway because of the blindfold, but that he does on principle. He's pouting, angry that he can't know what's going on. Angry that he hasn't known what's been going on for the last _two hours_.

His boyfriend had just showed up at his door that morning, and after politely chatting with his father for a few minutes had dragged him out the door, tying that freaking cloth across his face.

If he found he had a red stripe over the top part of his face when this was finished he might end up killing somebody. Namely, said boyfriend who put the thing on him in the first place.

Kurt knew he was sort of a bitch at the moment, but to be honest his boyfriend had it coming. More than, actually. If there was one thing beyond his sexuality and interest in fashion that seemed to be common knowledge it was his vast detest for anything vaguely resembling a 'surprise'.

So his boyfriend of almost a year now certainly had it coming to him when Kurt had spent the entire car ride over to... wherever the hell they were going, grumbling and calling him every foul name in the book. Kurt wasn't even feeling a hint of remorse or guilt for it, he was only frustrated that he couldn't think of more horrid names to call him.

He _really_ hated surprises, okay?!

And things didn't get better when they stopped either, because apparently they 'weren't quite there yet babe, don't get your panties in a twist'. No, now he wasn't just in a terrible mood from being held in the dark for hours, no, now he was angry at his boyfriend for insinuating that he was a cranky girl as well.

Guess who wasn't getting laid ever again.

But Kurt let himself be led away by his boyfriend, because who knew what would happen if he didn't. It was already apparent he couldn't get the damn blindfold off by himself, and if he didn't fallow somewhat obediently at least he might fall, or worse, walk straight into a wall or something in front of who knew how many people.

"Are we really not there yet?" Kurt asked, annoyed after nearly tripping over yet another step on the staircase they were on that his boyfriend hadn't pointed out to him. "Where are you taking me? A strip club? You know I told you there was no friggin' way I was coming to you with one of those, and I _will_ maim you if you have."

"Geez, Kurt, have a little faith will you?" his boyfriend said exasperatedly, obviously tired of his nagging, as they walked outside. "'Sides, we're almost halfway there now, if you think you can wait a few more hours."

"_A few more hours_?!" Kurt shrieked, heedless of how many people there was surrounding them. "No, nuh-uh, I'm going home now. There's _no way_ I'm letting you kidnap me to your hidden sex-dungeon or whatever. Come on, take me home now."

He could hear his boyfriend sigh deeply beside him before turning around and probably facing Kurt. At least the familiar breath against his face suggested so. "Okay, listen up Ice Queen, 'cause I'm only going to say it once. You have been a bitch for weeks now, moaning about how boring and tasteless everything Lima has to fucking offer is, so I thought I would be nice for Christmas and take you shopping somewhere else. I even fucking asked your _father_ if I could take you somewhere for the weekend, and he _agreed_," his boyfriend hissed at him, clearly pissed off. Kurt began feeling guilty for how terribly he'd behaved, and was about to apologize sheepishly when his boyfriend continued. "I even agreed to book us separate rooms in the hotel we're staying, _promising_ Burt that I wouldn't even try and sneak into yours when we're there because I knew how freaking excited you would get once you would finally find out where we're going, and that it would be damned _worth it_. The destination which, by the way, I was going to tell you when we boarded the fucking _private jet_ I manage to beg my mother into letting us borrow, as well as the platinum card she isn't using. But you know what? Be the fucking Queen Bitch that you are, and go home if you fucking want to, okay? What do I care? I was only trying to give you the weekend of your dreams in freaking New York City, thinking you might like it. Instead you think I'm _kidnapping_ you. I give up, Kurt. You hate surprises, I get it, now go home and forget all about this, see if I care." With his last words Sebastian ripped off the blindfold from his head and began to stalk his way back towards the car, sending Kurt into a flurry of panic.

God, he'd been such an ungrateful bitch, and for what? Nothing. His handsome boyfriend was absolutely amazing, planning all of this for him, and what did he do to say thank you? Granted he hadn't known about any of it until minutes ago, but had he really needed to be such a prissy ass about it?

Turning around and hurrying after the Dalton boy Kurt felt tears running down his cheeks, afraid he'd just lost the best boyfriend he'd ever had. It wasn't about the freaking money, or about what Sebastian could offer him with those paper bills. It was about how much he obviously cared for him, and about how much Kurt cared about him in return.

Flinging himself against his boyfriend's chest, clinging on to him as best as he could with all four of his limbs Kurt manically chanted out how sorry he was, how badly he felt, what a terrible boyfriend he was and could Sebastian ever forgive him for it.

"Just, ple-hease Bas, please forgive me," Kurt hiccuped, sobbing into the lapel of his boyfriend's jacket, grasping the edges of it tightly with whitening knuckles. "I'm so sorry, I'm so, _so _sorry. You're right, I am a bitch, a little whiny bitch who doesn't deserve you, not really, but please, don't leave me, _please_."

"Shh, Kurtie," Sebastian hushed into his hair, his arms reaching around him and tucking his racking body in closer to Sebastian's. "Shh, calm down Kurt. Just calm down, I'm not going anywhere."

It took Kurt a long time to calm down his heaving sobs, scared as he was that he would be left there, alone, by the boy he loved so much. Afraid he had ruined everything. But when Sebastian didn't leave, didn't disappear, Kurt began to ever so slowly calm, his breathing gently evening out after so many minutes of panicked desperation.

"I'm sorry," Kurt finally mumbled ashamedly into the crook of his boyfriend's neck and shoulder, burying himself there, trying to hide from how horrible he felt, how horrible he'd treated this boy.

"It's my fault too," Sebastian said calmly in return, squeezing him closer softly. "I knew you were going to be a bitch about it, I _knew _that, I'm not stupid or anything. But – and I will deny it if you ever mention it – I was kinda excited too. I was really nervous about how you would react when you'd find out, so I haven't sort of been able to sleep for a few days now, and I guess I got a little cranky myself."

When Kurt looked up he could see Sebastian was blushing, something which the other boy hardly ever did, so Kurt knew how much his boyfriend meant what he'd said if he was so embarrassed about it. It made Kurt smile, and he kissed his wonderful boyfriend to silently tell him not to worry and that things were okay between them once more.

It wasn't either of their faults really when the – at first chaste – kiss began to deepen, their tongues delving together and exploring softly as their fingers began to tangle into the other one's already mushed up hair. It wasn't their fault that they got so lost in each other that they didn't broke apart until their pilot came and asked them if they still wanted to use the jet or if he should take it away from the airport and park it again.

No, none of that was their fault. But that didn't mean that either regretted it.

"So," Sebastian asked a little breathlessly. "I don't suppose you still want to come with me now that things kind of went to hell?"

"Are you kidding me?!" Kurt shouted, slapping his boyfriend's shoulder lightly. "Of course I'm going. What are you? Nuts? Come on," Kurt laughed, grabbing his boyfriend's bigger hand in his and giggled madly as he rushed towards the jet outside, Sebastian hot on his trail.

* * *

><p>"Oh... Holy McQueen..." Kurt mumbled as he stepped into the plane and gazed around him, wondering how stupidly rich his boyfriend really was considering the extravagant decorating of the inside for the first time. Sure, he'd seen his boyfriend's home many a times by now, but one was <em>supposed<em> to spend money on your home, not on the inside of your _private jet_. Hell, one wasn't really supposed to even _own_ a private jet. Not in Ohio anyway. In LA maybe.

"It's not that bad..." Sebastian snickered behind him.

"Oh, it is. I thought your parents were biologists, how the _hell_ can they afford something like this?" Kurt asked, his fingers hovering in amazement inches from the crystal chandelier hanging over one of the tables.

"To be fair only my mother is a biologist, my father is actually a lawyer hired by the company she works for, which is also how they met by the way. But they are both trust fund children with massive inheritances, so I guess they indulge on certain things. You know, like I sorta splurge on you." Sebastian cheekily grinned, wrapping his arms around him from behind and pulled him back with him into one of the huge seats, so Kurt sat splayed on his lap.

"Hmm, you splurge on me?" Kurt teased with a smile, nipping gently at one of his boyfriend's earlobes. "I couldn't tell..."

"Mhmm," Sebastian hummed pleasantly, cupping Kurt's ass through his jeans, to which Kurt mewled happily at in response. "I do, I really do. And I will prove it to you in New York. But... in order to get there we might have to separate and sit in a seat each, at least during take off. Sorry, plane rules," Sebastian winked, pushing him over into the seat next to him.

Kurt huffed petulantly at being treated like a rag-doll, but when he'd straightened his clothes again and looked back to his boyfriend he could see him reaching out a tall glass filled with golden colored liquid.

"Champagne. The real deal, not the yucky stuff one can buy at the supermarket, here, try some," Sebastian offered, and Kurt took it, sipping cautiously. He could still remember quite vividly what happened that time he'd drunk Chablis and thrown up all over the guidance counselor, and did not want a repeat of that. Especially not in front of Sebastian of all people.

Unlike that cheap stuff April had given him however, this proved to be absolutely delicious. Kurt wouldn't mind drinking bucket-fulls of this, but placed the glass away from him after just that one glass, careful not to end up drunk again.

When the plane starts rumbling to life beneath and around him however, Kurt wished he'd drunken a few more glasses of the tasty alcohol, finally remembering how much he hates airplanes. He could recall the previous year when glee club had gone to New York for Nationals, how he'd clung very embarrassingly to Mercedes and Finn's arms the whole time, chanting about how they were going to crash and that he absolutely hated flying. That he wanted his dad.

Pale as a sheet Kurt closes his eyes and bores his fingers into the armrests beside him, willing Sebastian to somehow forget he's there with him and will fall asleep or _something_, just so he wouldn't notice how deathly afraid Kurt is.

"Kurt?" Fuck, there went that possibility.

"I'm okay, I'm o-okay," he whispers quietly, pressing his lips together and silencing the whimper about to rise in his throat as the plane begins to roll forward.

"You're not," Sebastian states, and Kurt knows it's obvious how scared he is. He knows that, but he can't stop denying it, can't let Sebastian see him like this.

"Yeah, I am," he says a little more clearly, emphasizing on the 'little' part because he's just about as inaudible as earlier. He clears his throat and tries to flash his boyfriend a smile, however shaky. "Really, I'm fine."

"No Kurt, you're really not. You're really pale, and that's saying something. For fuck's sake, you're shivering in your seat!" Sebastian shakes his head and unclasps his seat belt. "Scoot over babe."

Then Sebastian's there; he's holding him and protecting him. Kurt knows he is no damsel in distress, that he doesn't need the knight in shining armor during his everyday life, but for now? This? This is wonderful. To feel so safe in an environment that he loathes, that he can't stand, that's so precious.

So he only burrows himself closer and feeds off his boyfriend's reassuring confidence that things will be okay, tries to calm his heart by matching his heartbeat to Sebastian's. He let's himself be comforted as they rush down the landing strip at a faster and faster speed.

The pictures in his head doesn't stop however; the one's carved into his brain of planes crashing in movies and documentaries, pictures of _this_ plane falling and burning just like those did. Pictures of panic, of disaster, of terror. Those pictures, dulled slightly from being held by Sebastian are rushing back to the forefront of his mind the second they rise up high in the air, and watches as the city shrinks quickly below them.

Kurt doesn't even know what he's doing when he lifts his head up to smash his lips together with Sebastian's, doesn't notice the sharp breath of air his boyfriend takes in moments before Kurt plunges his own tongue into his mouth and tries to worm his way as close as possible. He doesn't notice how he claws at his boyfriend's back, at his neck, doesn't notice how he's grabbing Sebastian's hair and mashes their faces closer together.

He does however notice when Sebastian grips his wrists and forcefully parts them. He definitely notices the panic filling him when he can't touch his boyfriend. He _absolutely_ notices how shocked Sebastian is looking at him, how dark his eyes are, how _wild_ Kurt himself is looking reflected in his boyfriend's lust-filled eyes.

"P-please," he begs brokenly. He doesn't know for what, or why, just that Sebastian can give him what he craves, what he desperately needs to calm down.

He can see when the comprehension fills his boyfriend's green eyes, can see how they softens. Moments after there's a palm cupping his jaw, a thumb stroking gently over his tear-streaked cheek, a soft 'sure' whispered into his skin before he's being kissed once more. Only this time more languidly, more gently, more lovingly.

His wrists are gripped once more, fingers pressing into his veins there and making him shiver from how much it makes him feel like he _belongs_ to Sebastian. It's true though; he belongs to Sebastian, just as much as Sebastian belongs to him, and it's just what he needs right now for his heart to stop racing so frantically.

Like always, even when he himself doesn't even know what he needs, Sebastian will, and he will gladly give it to Kurt.

"Thank you," he murmurs in between deep kisses, thankful for the distraction Sebastian is providing him, thankful for the grounding he's supplying Kurt with at the moment. "Thank you."

"No worries babe," Sebastian grunts, pushing him back into the seat, and Kurt gasps from how good it feels to be completely covered by this extraordinary boy of his. "Really, it's my pleasure. Now, what do you want, now that you seem to be able to actually ask for it."

Kurt thinks about it as he continues kissing Sebastian. What does he want? He wants whatever his boyfriend wants – but that's a given, and also not what his boyfriend asked for. Kurt guesses he wants to forget where he is, he supposes he wants to be reminded that he's Sebastian's – especially because of how traumatic this day has grown to become.

"I want you," is the answer he settles with, because it's the closest he can come to the tumult of thoughts racing through his messy mind.

"I know that," Sebastian teases, licking behind his teeth swiftly, something that always makes him loose his breath. "But what do you want specifically?"

"I don't know," Kurt moans desperately, trying to rut up against his boyfriend above him. "Everything. Anything."

"What do you want Kurt?" Sebastian asks again, forcing their bodies apart and making Kurt whine from the loss.

"You, I want you," he pleads.

"What do you want?" Sebastian asks, making Kurt stare straight into his green eyes with his own that are blown wide with desperation and primal lust.

"Gah!" he groans writhing beneath his boyfriend's strong hold, trying to think of anything besides 'please'. "Please!"

"Kurt! What. Do. You. Want?"

"You," he finally gasps. "In me, on me, fucking me, anything, please. _Please_!"

"Good boy," Sebastian praises, and it feels so good, like a weight has been lifted. He's a _good boy_. That's the only thing that matters, that he's made his boyfriend proud of him, that he's being good. "Take off you're clothes Kurt, and lean over that table," Sebastian points.

Kurt does as he's been told, almost ripping his clothes off in his need to get them off, throwing them somewhere when he does, and he has no idea where they land. It doesn't even matter, the only thing that does is the way his boyfriend's eyes gleam as they watch him, the way those eyes rake over his every bared little piece of skin. Every glance thrown his way making him preen and purr like a delighted pussy-cat.

When every tiny article of clothing is removed Kurt is quick to do as Sebastian had said and lays his torso down on the table, his knees resting against the carpeted floor below him. His face is flat against the cool material of the table, and it lessens the fog in his mind enough so he can take in how flushed his boyfriend is already looking. Like he's already come. Twice.

If that isn't enough to make Kurt gleam with pride nothing is.

And he does smile; Kurt smiles the whole time Sebastian just watches him from afar, smiles as his boyfriend finally realizes how long he's stood there, smiles as he watches said boyfriend hurriedly finding his bag and rifling through it. He smiles all until he can feel his boyfriend kneeling there behind him, instead changing the wide smile into an unabashed moan when he can feel the hot hand dragging down his naked spine. He trembles feeling the fingertips trailing over every single bone, carving patterns into his pale flesh as they travel down, down, down. Shudders as they scrape over the globe of his ass, as they dig in and spreads him apart.

He _howls_ when he feels the wet tongue lapping up his crack unexpectedly. It wasn't something he'd expected, it wasn't something they'd ever tried before, and why that is deludes Kurt, when that single little lick had made him feel so much.

His fingers grapple for something to earth him, something to keep him steady as he feels like floating away as Sebastian just keeps licking the pleads and moans right out of him. Searches for leverage as he feels that nimble tongue teasing his rim, and at last finds the end of the table when that tongue breaches him, just slightly, but still.

He holds on there tight, his knuckles whitening with how hard he's gripping the table, his jaw hurting from how he clenches his teeth together. He can practically hear how they grind together, that's how much pressure there are on his precious little teeth.

Smack!

"Stop that," Sebastian says, smacking his cheek lightly with his palm. "Stop biting your teeth together, you'll hurt yourself. Besides, I wanna hear you," he adds with a leer as he leans down to bite the spot he hit moments earlier.

Kurt screams from the spark shooting through his body. He's always loved getting bitten, and his boyfriend knew it, the bastard.

There's fingers jabbing at his entrance now as well when Sebastian finally get's back to rimming him. Luckily they're slick, otherwise it'd hurt when two of them are shoved into him at once, but instead the only thing Kurt feels is how good it is. The steady pressure against him, _in him_, as well as that teasing tongue playing with his ass – and his hole in particular – it's all amazing, it's all absolutely glorious.

His back arches as the fingers almost graze that marvelous spot inside him; so impossibly close that Kurt keens from just the proximity of it being pleasured. He knows that it won't however – not until Sebastian is in him completely, if he even will. He might just decide to tease him like this until he can't be bothered anymore, might as well just use Kurt's mouth to get off, then maybe rub Kurt off with his hand if he doesn't come from just blowing Sebastian.

It's happened before; Kurt coming without any stimulation whatsoever as he's been on his knees before Sebastian, sucking him deep into his mouth. It's because of how much Kurt loves being like that – how much he likes being on his knees, pleasing his boyfriend. It's because of that heavy weight in his mouth, that salty yet musky and sweet taste in his mouth, it's because of how his mouth needs to stretch so wide to be able to take him in completely. It's because how Sebastian looks at him while Kurt blows him – those eyes that looks at him with a mixture of love and raw lust.

It's a miracle it hasn't made him come more times than it already has to be honest.

Kurt isn't sure how long he stays there bent over the table; has no idea how many minutes it took before that third finger was entering, no idea how long it took until the fourth finger began to stretch him, no idea for how long that tongue was lapping over his most private part. It was a long time, he knows, it was long enough for him to manage to plead himself silent. Long enough to make him just give up and lie there with a raging and painful arousal between his legs, accepting whatever treatment Sebastian wanted him to have.

He whines brokenly even so when the fingers leave him, hating how empty he suddenly feels, reaching behind himself to keep them in, to make him feel full again as his muscles clench around nothing. His throat feels raw as he pleads for Sebastian to get back inside, to just please get back inside, only to be met by a wicked yet loving smirk.

He knows, he knows that Sebastian will take care of him, but it doesn't lessen the desperation nevertheless.

"Come on, babe, get up. I want you to ride me," Sebastian tells him, pulling him back up by the arm, and Kurt is glad for that, because his legs are weak and wobbly as he straightens up. There is no way Kurt would have been able to stand on his own at that moment, not that he needs it for long, because soon enough he's straddling his boyfriend in one of the gigantic seats, his boyfriend's dick being fed into him inch by inch.

He sighs when he's filled to the brim; he's missed how good it felt, how greatly it is to be stuffed like this, with his Sebastian looking him deeply into the eyes as he's being lifted and dropped back down, moans spilling out of him with little restraint.

Kurt's arms are thrown around Sebastian's neck, his fingers tightly knit into the brown locks at the back of his head as he brings their lips together. Anything to stifle those loud moans really.

Sebastian's hands are digging into his hips, most likely leaving fingertip bruises with how tightly he's being gripped, but it only adds to the pleasure tumbling through Kurt's already wrecked body.

He can feel the way Sebastian is just using his gaping wide hole, just shoving himself in there without needing to even think and consider about Kurt. Because Kurt is stretched so wide that even the thickest part of Sebastian is too small to really hurt. Instead it just feels good. It just feels great. And especially so with the way Sebastian seems to be focused to drill every miniscule thrust straight against his prostate, just digging his cock against it and pushing Kurt so much closer to his impending orgasm.

"Come Kurt," Sebastian tells him, digging his teeth into his neck and making him scream from the pleasure racking through him. "Come on Kurt, come."

And Kurt does. There isn't even a choice about that, not with the way Sebastian is playing him, not with the onslaught of different touches to his entire body – all from the sharp teeth against his sensitive neck to the way their thighs slap together whenever he's being wholly filled. All of that and more shoves him dick first over the edge, and he doesn't even need to have his dick touched to have his vision blurring as well as his hearing as he wails, shooting thick, white cum between them.

Then everything goes black.

* * *

><p>When Kurt wakes up they're standing still. The plane is no longer in the air, and apparently hasn't been for the past twenty minutes.<p>

Sebastian had been worried – of course he had, Kurt had passed out from having a fucking orgasm – but is so, so relieved and grateful that Kurt had finally come to.

This time it's Kurt's turn to ground his boyfriend. His time to let Sebastian know that everything's all right, that nothing bad has happened. It was just Sebastian who made him come so fucking hard he blacked out.

Sebastian smiles weakly at that, before quietly admitting how scared he'd been. How close he'd been to just calling Kurt's father, or the ambulance, or anyone, because he'd been so scared that he'd done something wrong.

Kurt assures him though that everything is good, that they're both okay and well, that nobody is hurt. He reminds the younger boy that he loves him, and that he's sorry for scaring him so badly. He hugs him and cuddles him close, assuring him with his body that he's there and alive. That he's still Sebastian's. That everything will be just fine.

It's long after they've both quietened that Kurt brings up the thing that's been bugging him ever since he woke up.

"Bas?" he asks, only receiving a gentle hum in return where Sebastian's is pressed close against his chest. "Why am I wearing clothes?"


	13. Rachel

**Pairing: Kurt/Rachel.**

**Prompt: They swap bodies and Kurt decides to give Rachel a blowjob.**

**Words: 5143**

**Kinks: Blowjob, bodyswap I guess...**

**AN: Okay, I don't know how other people have managed to do things like this in the past, but ****_how the hell_****does one describe two people having sex – or anything really – while in the other one's body?! Hardest thing I've ever done, hands down! Pronouns, descriptions, etc. etc. I'm happy if this doesn't end up too fucked up and confusing, but 'enjoy' I guess.**

**And by the way, this isn't betaed, had no time for it as I literally finished it like ten minutes ago... Hardest thing to write obviously also takes the _longest_ time to write as well.**

* * *

><p>Right from the start Kurt can tell that something is most definitely up. The sheets around him aren't the satin ones he'd fallen asleep with, the silken pajamas he'd worn to bed the previous night is replaced with a rougher, flannel one, and the lights are hitting him from the wrong side of the bed.<p>

And that's just the things that he notices _before_ he opens his eyes, because once he does he's startled by the sheer pinkness surrounding him. It's everywhere; the walls, the ceiling, the bedding, the _floor_...

Pictures of Barbra and Patti and Liza are hung up on the walls, and Kurt instantly knows where he is, remembers this room from the one time he visited it's owner. Remembers the horrendous make-over he gave her, all to try and sabotage her chances with Finn.

Not that it helped in the end.

But the question stands – what the _hell_ is he doing in Rachel Berry's bedroom?

Raking a hand through his hair, sighing, Kurt stops, laying paralyzed as his fingers clutches around thick strands of hair. Thick, _long_ strands of hair. What the-?

Shooting out of bed Kurt searches for a mirror, easily finding one in the adjacent bathroom. He stares at his reflection, mouth open in chock and confusion, brows furrowed as he looks at the person mirroring him.

Because that person looking back? Sure as hell isn't him. It's Rachel.

"What?" he squawks, and is terrified when Rachel's voice rings out, sounding slightly off to his ears, but it's clearly hers. "No, no, nonono..."

Kurt is panicking; pulling at that hair that most definitely doesn't belong to him, but that still makes his head – Rachel's head – ache. Tears are welling up in those brown eyes, so unfamiliar from his own pale blue one's, and the only thought running through his mind is 'what is happening to me?'

* * *

><p>Not even two hours pass after that until Kurt has found his way back to his own home, figuring that there is where Rachel is – occupying <em>his<em> body. The only reason it took him so long in the first place was because of his horror when going through the shorter girl's wardrobe; the panic at finding nothing but disastrous polyester blended skirts and shirts with those horrid animals on them – not to mention those three sets of pantsuits – almost more overwhelming than being stuck in Rachel's body. It had taken him twenty minutes just going through the part of her closet obviously dedicated to tacky Christmas sweaters.

Okay, so he's being a bit dramatic, but Kurt thinks that considering the circumstances, he's sort of allowed to.

In the end he'd found this brown woolen skirt that wasn't all too terrible, and he'd coupled it with the most basic white t-shirt he could find. It wasn't even close to anything he would wear voluntarily in public – or even at home, really – but it was the best he could do. Changing had been an whole other awkward encounter that Kurt refuses to dwell on.

Showering had of course been out of the question; there was no way he would ever do that to himself. Or Rachel. Merely peeing had been humiliating enough. And though Rachel had her own stack of moisturizers and other hygienic products Kurt refused to use any of them. Well, apart from the toothpaste, because _hello_? But no, he was going to take her shopping at a later time; was going to introduce her to the art of fashion and proper products that wasn't simply damaging your skin.

When he was back in his normal body that was.

Getting into his house had been a whole other matter. He would've called ahead and gotten Rachel to open the door for him herself if it hadn't been for two things. One – Rachel apparently didn't have his number, which kind of made sense since he could recall never getting hers either. And two – even if he did call he doubted she would answer. He had found that he in this body had woken up about five hours ahead of when he usually would, at an wholly incomprehensible and astounding five am, something that he'd heard from various sources that Rachel always did. If fallowing that logic it would mean that Rachel would sleep just as long as Kurt normally would, and thus wouldn't wake up for yet another few hours, and that when she did...

Let's just say Kurt dreaded waking her up.

But, problem at hand, getting into that house. He could always just unlock the door with the spare key they kept under the mailbox, but that would mean risking running into Burt once inside. Kurt couldn't tell if his father had gone to the shop yet or not; Burt always parked his car inside the garage, leaving the driveway for Kurt's Navigator.

For once Kurt cursed not knowing when his father left for work on Saturday's.

So no, that strategy was out, and so was sneaking in through one of the small basement windows. Those things were all shut and locked tight – Kurt always checked before going to bed, feeling safer if he knew nobody could break in through them.

That only left one thing, the thing Kurt dreaded most of all.

Ringing the bell he tried to think of something to say, what excuse he could tell to explain his early visit to the Hummel household. And as far as Kurt knew his father had never even met Rachel prior to this...

"Uhm, hi?" Kurt heard his father ask as he looked down at the rocks below his scuffling feet, brought out of his musings of believable lies. "Not to be rude or anything, but who are you?"

"Oh!" Kurt breathed, his mind running frantic. "I'm Rachel. Berry! I'm Rachel Berry, and I- well I know your son, and..."

"You in that club of his?" Burt asked, scratching his balded head before putting his cap back on. "Think I recognize you from that singing contest of yours."

"Sectionals, yes," Kurt sighed, relieved at the opening. "Kurt actually invited me over to work on a new number." God, was it weird to talk about himself like this!

"Uh-huh. Are you sure he invited you at this time. Don't think I've seen my kid up before noon when he doesn't have school in the morning." Just his luck that his dad knew him so well.

"Well, you see Mr. Hummel..." Kurt dragged out, mind whirring like crazy. "...I- I actually have temple later. I'm Jewish, you know, so I only had time to come over this early before my dads come pick me up." That was something one did on Saturday's when you were Jewish, right? And thinking about Rachel's alleged dads he remembered one of the girl's trademark lines to say, so he added, "I have two gay dads you know."

"...Right." Kurt could see that his dad was even more confused now, but luckily he stepped aside. "Well, you should come in then."

"Thank you," Kurt gratefully said, hurrying inside from the chilling snow and frost. He was just about to walk straight over to the basement when his father's voice rang out, reminding him that Rachel wasn't supposed to know her way around.

"Kurt lives in the basement. It's that door on the right," Burt pointed out before turning around. "Oh, and Rachel? I'd suggest bringing him a cup of coffee before you try to wake him up. Kid won't run without it."

"Oh," Kurt breathed, turning towards the large man. "Thank you."

"No worries. I'll be going to the shop then," Burt told him – her – pulling on his jacket. "Remember, coffee. It'll save your life kid."

"Coffee – right," Kurt counted off, pointing behind himself towards the kitchen. "That way right, uhm, sir?"

Burt huffed a small chuckle, nodding. "Yup. Nice you meet you Rachel. And good luck with Kurt."

"Right," Kurt drawled, getting a bit annoyed about how much his father was pointing out his difficulty with waking up in the mornings. It was getting old – quick. "Nice to meet you too."

But Kurt took his advice and went to the kitchen when Burt closed the door behind himself, figuring it at least couldn't hurt. And his father did have a point – Kurt never really did work properly until he got his precious coffee. Waking up like he had that morning was virtually unheard of, he was never that awake and pliable when he had just opened his eyes in the morning, and Kurt blamed it on this new body he was in possession of.

Pouring a cup of the coffee his father had brewed earlier that morning Kurt made a new attempt at walking down to the basement, and gosh was it weird seeing himself sleep like that? On his bed he saw his body laying sprawled out like a starfish, hair tussled beyond recognition and mouth open... and was that drool? Did he drool when he slept? Kurt didn't know he did that! God, how could he be so disgusting?! But, oh! Maybe it was Rachel who was drooling...

Shaking his head at himself Kurt walks closer, placing the steaming cup down on the bedside table before reaching out and shaking the sleeping body.

"Rachel?" Kurt asks, trying to wake her up. "Rachel, come on, wake up. Rachel?"

She only mumbles lowly – and on a side note, does he really sound that rough in the mornings? – and turns over, though not before nearly punching him in the face.

"Come on Rach," Kurt wheedles, shaking her – his – shoulder harder. "Wake up now."

"'m sleeping," she grumbles, hugging the pillow close to her and burrowing down. Holy Gaga, Kurt will never complain about his father again, not if it's this difficult waking him up every morning in time for school.

"Up, Rachel. You really need to wake up, okay?"

"No," she hisses, turning onto her stomach and pulling the pillow down on top of her head, hiding herself from him. "'m tired," he hears a muffled rumble from beneath the billowy pillow.

"...I've got coffee," Kurt tries, but doubts it will work.

"Coffee?!" At that Rachel is sitting up, her hands pawing at the air. "Gimme," she whines, her eyes heavy lidded and sleepy as she reaches for the outstretched cup Kurt is handing her. "'m so good," she mumbles as she sips on the hot liquid.

It's weird, to say the least, watching his body sitting there rumpled and barely awake, choking back a scalding cup of coffee. Especially considering it's not even him doing it. That it's Rachel hiding in his body.

He is _so_ going to need therapy after this.

"That better?" he asks, sitting down in his desk chair, watching her carefully as he smooths the skirt down on his lap. Rachel's lap. Whatever.

"Mhmm," she hums, clutching the mug between her hands, face blissed out and serene. "...Wait..." And now there's a frown lodged deep between her eyes – she's obviously beginning to catch up. "What-?"

When she looks up at him in confusion he can see the myriad of thoughts and emotions whirring past that face. Chock, confusion, disbelief, just to name a few. The 'what the hell is going on' is apparent from the way she's looking at him.

And then she _screams_.

Kurt has to stick his fingers in his ears from the sheer loudness that girl is emitting – but the knowledge of another few high notes he is _most_ _definitely_ able to hit is carefully folded away into his memory. He will thank Rachel for that after he's stolen the next solo from her.

"No! No, this isn't happening! What-? Why-?! No. I'm sleeping. I'm obviously still sleeping. This isn't happening. No, no, no!" She's pinching herself, still not aware of just _who's _body it is she's marring. Kurt winces just watching the strength she's putting into her pinches, just _knowing_ there will be bruises later from that.

"Nope, Berry. Not a dream," Kurt tells her, crossing his arms.

"Oh God," she breathes, staring at him intently. "So what? There's two of me now? No, that just isn't happening. It _can't_ happen!"

"Are you really that stupid?" Kurt can't help but ask, rolling his eyes. "Look down you nitwit."

"What do you mean- aargh!" she screams again, freaking out as she stares down at the – to her – unfamiliar body. "What did you do to me?!" she screams, pointing at him dramatically.

"Oh, calm down Rachel," Kurt groans, drawing his fingers through the weirdly long hair. "You think I was happy waking up in Strawberry Shortcake's house this morning? There is no way I would've done this voluntarily – except, well, I might just get Finn to make out with me now. Huh, I hadn't thought of that earlier," Kurt muses, tilting his head at the possibilities.

"...Kurt?" Rachel stammers, eyes wide when Kurt looks back at her.

"Uhm, yes. Who did you think I was?" Kurt giggles, tilting his head wonderously at the girl.

"I- I'm not sure..." she settles with, burying her face in her hand. She stills when she rakes the fingers through the short hair not many moments after. "Oh, that's weird."

"Hmm, guess I should've brought more coffee," Kurt thinks aloud, just watching the girl as she comes to terms with her new discovery. McQueen knows how long it had taken him.

* * *

><p>"...So how long do you think it will take until we're back in our own bodies?" Rachel asks, sipping on the last few drops on her third cup of coffee, her bare feet just barely touching the floor from where she's sitting on the bed.<p>

"No idea," Kurt tells her dejectedly. "Guess we're just gonna have to wait it out I suppose."

"Mmm. Try and make the best of it."

Kurt agrees. What else can he do? Life is not like a movie, and even if it was, Kurt doubts that there's much Lindsey Lohan can ever teach him of it.

"Ooh!" Rachel shouts, placing the cup down and standing up. "I know what we can do! Though unplanned this is a spectacular chance for me to judge and train my own voice without the infuriating need of a recorder of some form. You could sing to me so that I can learn what to do better. Not that I'm not already amazing," she adds trying to flip her hair over her shoulder, not remembering it isn't present anymore and pouting when she comes up short, "but there's always room for improvement."

"Or..." Kurt drags out, already dismissing _that_ idea, "we could do something else that doesn't entail me being your personal slave for the day."

"But-"

"No Rachel."

"Hrmpf," she sulks, crossing her arms.

He only rolls his eyes and bites his tongue to keep from saying something about her being such a grumpy toddler. He does _not_ need her to be in one of her moods, not today and definitely not like this.

Looking at her Kurt wonders about what they could do. Obviously Kurt using this chance to get a chance with Finn isn't going to happen – no matter how tempting – because not only would Finn hating him forever afterwards, but Kurt would hate himself just as much, if not more, if he did. Rachel probably wouldn't mind killing him for it as well...

They could probably have a musical marathon or something; just holing up somewhere to ride this thing out, and maybe make plans if this body-change seemed to last for awhile. It would be the sensible thing to do, but Kurt might kill the diva if needed to spend an extensive amount of time with her.

It's strange watching his own body like this, Kurt reflects as Rachel folds her legs together and sits crossed-legged on the bed. He's so familiar with it, with the pale planes and ridges of his skin. He knows just where the muscles hiding beneath that slim exterior hide, knows just where his freckles lie perched. But looking upon it like this? It's like seeing it with a whole new set of eyes – which, alright, bad description 'cause he sort of _is_, but the point stands. He's never really noticed just _how_ he looked; hadn't really noticed how grown up he looked – at least comparing to a few years ago when he really _did_ looked like an eleven year old milkmaid, and by the way, thanks for that Santana.

Now there's muscles – although somewhat hidden – where there only used to be skin and bones, his baby-fat has begun to disappear, leaving him with a look less innocent, and those additional few inches he'd grown since the last year actually _does_ show. A bit at least.

He actually looks kind of... handsome. Sort of sexy, even.

Blushing at his own train of though Kurt looks away, very much aware of how crazy he is for thinking like this. But the wall has been broken, and frame after frame flits past his eyes, presenting him with idea after idea of things he is now able to do with himself while in this body. Things that – no matter how much want or effort – just hadn't been possible before.

Never before has he had the opportunity of having someone else – that wasn't his father – hold him, or kiss him. Then there's the fantasies that aren't rated PG. Of giving somebody a handjob, of being fucked and fucking somebody in return. Of sucking somebody.

And, of course it's weird thinking about doing this to himself in a way – and in Rachel's body nonetheless – but it's also kind of arousing.

This switching of bodies have truly fucked him up more than he'd imagined, because now Kurt kind of can't stop looking. Or thinking rationally apparently, because those fantasies just goes on, and on, and...

"Can I give you a blowjob?" Kurt asks her, his eyes wide and staring at... well, his own crotch. He knows whats hidden under those pajama pants, of course he does, and he's narcissistic enough to find the idea of being able to blow himself a turn on. Of ripping that thin piece of fabric away and just sucking his own dick down to the hilt, choking and gurgling around it. He drools faintly just thinking about it.

Though he chooses to ignore how this particular body reacts to the thoughts whirling through his mind. It's better not to think about it if he wants to stay sane.

Rachel herself seems chocked in his body, mouth open and pale blue eyes widened greatly as those pale cheeks reddens hastily. "W-what?" she sputters, hands fumbling with the hem of the pajama shirt. Kurt happily notes how she's inching the fabric downwards to cover his dick – which is a ridiculous motion anyway, like he's never seen his own cock before – and he notices how the fabric beneath the shirt is stretched just a little further than usual, indicating that Rachel at the very least finds the thought intriguing.

"I want to give you – well, me, really – a blowjob," Kurt tells her, standing and sauntering forwards towards her – himself? – and sitting down on the bed next to her. He feels kind of derisory, attempting to seduce Rachel like this when in her own body, yet he can't help but leaning himself in towards her, whispering into her ear lowly and slightly breathily. "I've never given one – never received one for that matter – and now that I sort of have the chance to get both at the same time I really want to at least try it." He places a hand on the silken covered thigh beside him, and can feel it tremble lightly under his touch. "Please Rachel?" he asks, flicking his tongue out to trace a line up the bare neck before him, listening to how Rachel pants softly because of it.

"Urgh," she groans, tilting her head to the side in invitation. "Won't that- won't that damage the vocal c-cords?" she asks, yet drags him closer to her throat, and he nips the skin carefully. The small gasp she gives out is breathtaking – yet it sort of makes him feel like he's participating in some weird masturbatory session. Still pretty amazing. "I just-" Rachel continues on, "I am strict to not participate in anything – huh! – that will compromise my natural capacity of accomplishing the – right there, Kurt! – high notes I am destined to gain my impending fame from. God Kurt! Are you certain that such an activity isn't just bound to end up in tragic and rob me of my chance to be a star?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Kurt asks rolling his eyes, thumbing over the small mark he'd left with his free hand – making her shudder in the process. "I am sure me sucking a cock down this throat will in no way endanger your vocal cords. Happy?"

"Mm, very," Rachel hums. She turns her head and looks into his eyes. "Then sure, why not. I probably won't get a chance like this again anyway, and my dads have always told me to grasp whatever opportunity come my way."

"You sure?" Kurt questions, his fingers inching their way up the strong thigh below them and soon coming to rest on the ever hardening bulge, stroking ever so lightly. "I won't do this if you aren't."

"'m sure," Rachel pants, hips softly bucking up and she whines, unused as she is to the new sensations rushing through her body. "Please."

Carding his fingers through those short, chocolate brown hair Kurt leant forward and caught those red-bitten and luscious lips with his own. Sighing, he closed his eyes and fell into the kiss – his first, and oh my was it glorious. Never mind that it was with a girl, or that it was his own lips he was pressing against, the sparks racing from his lips through his body were just divine.

"Oh," Kurt breathed, breaking away, a small frown appearing on his face. How could he had lived without _that_ for so long? "Oh," he sighed once more, dumbly.

"I- I thought you wanted to do something else, Kurt?" Rachel murmured, tracing her kiss-swollen lips with one fingertip. Looking up he could tell she was blushing, and he would need to remember how much it showed when he blushed – the pale skin contrasted so beautifully against those reddened cheeks.

"I do," he whispered, sliding of the bed and settling between her spread legs, caressing her clothed thighs and watching her respond to his touch so greatly, so easily. Leaning forward Kurt nuzzled against that covered length, inhaling that sweet and musky scent, feeling heady with it. Dragging his mouth over her Kurt curled his fingers into the pants and inched them down, Rachel lifting her hips ever so little to help.

Within moments she was bare from the waist down, the so familiar thick length mere inches from his face, just screaming at him to act. But Kurt didn't immediately dive in on that deliciously pink cock, no, instead he sank down further, licking across those hairless balls; conscious that she, not acquainted with these kind of sensations, might not be able to hold off should he go straight for that big length.

Tonguing across the sensitive – and surprisingly delectable – skin Kurt pushed the long hair falling in front of his face back, frustrated with how it was getting in the way. Thankfully Rachel seemed to understand, and collecting all strands of hair she held on to it tightly behind his head, and he grunted his appreciation as he nosed at the base of the erection.

Gripping his shorter than usual fingers around the base of the dick Kurt started to lap tiny little kitten-licks around the shaft, leisurely working his way up to the bulbous head. Precum was already leaking from the slit, and he swallowed the small beads greedily, moaning softly at the taste. He may have tasted it from his fingers in the past, but what that lacked in comparison to this particular experience was devouring it straight from the source, adding a certain earthy flavor from the stretched out flesh.

Rachel was emitting a litany of noises herself; small mewls and desperate, quiet cries. Kurt could feel her grasping his hair harder, using it to guide him closer. "Please, just-" he could hear her plead, trying to get him to take her inside, and gentleman that he is – was, is, God was this confusing! – he acquaintances.

Opening his mouth wide Kurt takes the head in past his lips, getting a feel for what he was doing. The taste was something he could most certainly get used to, and the feeling of his lips being spread apart so grandly to accommodate the thickness of the length was heading.

Given the opportunities Kurt definitely saw himself becoming something of a cockslut.

"You okay?" Kurt murmured lowly, not taking many moments away from paying that slick hardness his attention.

"Y-yeah," Rachel stuttered weakly, massaging her fingers into his head and coaxing him further down. "You can take more if you want. Just don't damage my voice!"

Kurt only grumbled around the cock that was already back in his mouth, and slowly pushed himself to take more of it, eyes rolling shut as inch by glorious inch passed his lips. To say he was surprised when feeling the length tap the back of his throat was an understatement, and he broke away quickly, staring up at Rachel with glistening eyes. "You don't have a gag-reflex?" he asked her incredulously. Kurt certainly had one, at it had infuriated him more than once when he'd practiced on his toys.

"W-well, no. I- I don't think so?" Rachel answered uncertainly, head still tipped back as she panted heavily, obviously doing her utmost not to blow any given second.

"Well, you lucky little-" Kurt huffed, anxious to try this out. He'd never been able to experience this particular feeling before, and he was sure to enjoy it while it lasted.

Cock back in his mouth Kurt soon felt that touch against his throat again, this time relaxing his agitated muscles so he could barrel on, taking even more than before. The wonderment of being capable of doing this certainly wasn't going to wear off, and the amazement of having his throat filled was too good to describe. He certainly would start practicing more than ever before when back in his normal body, this was far too amazing to give up.

Nose pressing against her belly Kurt gurgled around her base, eyes rolling back happily as he swallowed once, twice. He then drew back, heaving several deep breaths to fill his aching lungs. Though who cared about air when there were things so much better?

"Think you will come soon?" Kurt asked when he felt less like he would pass out, glancing up at Rachel as he lapped around the vein running up the now purple shaft.

"Mhmm," Rachel hummed, nodding hastily, her eyes clamped shut and her mouth drawn tight, bottom lip sucked into her mouth.

"Then don't hold back," Kurt advised, swallowing her down and hallowing his cheeks, milking her. The reverent and begging words falling from her lips as she drew nearer to her orgasm were like heaven to his lips, and when she at last spilled onto his tongue Kurt groaned in response, the taste exquisite.

He sucked her through her orgasm; only gentler, softer, soothing her through the strange explosion of pleasure she was experiencing. He could feel her softening in his mouth, and though sad about doing so Kurt released her, easing the pajama pants back up over her groin.

Still licking his lips Kurt helped her lie down on the bed, then fallowed and curled up beside her, cuddling close to her sweat-slick body. It was only when relaxed into the bed that Kurt took notice of the wet feeling soaking the panties he wore; so strange and awkward as he rubbed his thighs together, but he couldn't care much as the taste of cum still lingered on his tongue and hazed his mind.

"Do they always feel like that?" Rachel asked not long after, turning on her side to face him.

"What?"

"Orgasms. Do they always feel like that?" she elaborated, motioning her big and pale hands between them.

"I- I guess so," Kurt guessed, and she nodded her head thoughtfully. Dread was pooling in the pit of his stomach. "Did you- have you never had an orgasm before?"

"Oh, female one's sure, but they're never like _that_," Rachel supplied, easing his conscience of robbing her of her very first orgasm like this. "Think we could try this again before we turn back?" Rachel continued, surprising him even further.

Kurt could only nod dumbly, the thought of getting to try that _at least_ once more... pleasant shivers ran down his spine.

"Anything else you want to try?" Kurt asked, needing any further surprises out of the way if he were to function at all while they were like this.

"Well..." Rachel began, blushing adorably as she looked down at the bedding. "I did always want to try something..."

Kurt waited for several moments, expecting her to continue. "Well, what?"

"I kind of... wanted to try oral myself," Rachel told him, still staring intently at the mattress beneath them.

"Won't that be hard when..." And then he got it, when she looked up into his eyes. Oh. _Oh_. So she wanted to? Oh. "We can- we can definitely try that," Kurt said shakily, the wetness between his legs getting closer to sopping as he continued to think about it. Though feeling somewhat wrong in this body, he was _most definitely_ up for it. Not to mention he did owe it to Rachel.

"Good," Rachel said, scooting down and laying her head on his chest. "Then I guess we'll take a nap, and then we'll do that. Wake me up in a few hours, okay?"

"Y-yeah," Kurt breathed, mind still supplying him with arousing fantasies.

God he couldn't wait for those two hours to pass.


	14. Mike

**Pairing: Kurt/Mike.**

**Prompt: Kurt wants to see just how flexible Mike, being a dancer, is.**

**Words: 4222**

**Kinks: Fingering, rimming, anal, felching, self-fellatio, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, some D/s.**

**AN: Now I know Mike is sort of known to be one of the more quiet characters on the show, but I do imagine him to be kinda talkative in certain situations...**

**And why do most of my Kurt's turn rather subby? Yet conflictingly dominating?**

* * *

><p>The only reason Kurt had even showed up to Puck's Christmas party ("Par-ty," Puck pronounced exaggeratedly, explaining it to those who dared questioning him. "Not a <em>Christmas party<em>, just a par-ty, nothing to do with Christmas. I'm a smoking hot jew, remember? Just girls, booze and dancing.") was because the girls needed someone to drive them. The Glee club had been given obligatory invitations, and while most wouldn't go Kurt found himself to be the designated driver of Mercedes and Tina. He'd much rather be at home watching a Project Runway marathon or something, instead of standing alone leaning against the living room wall with a cup filled of water just watching everybody else have a swell time.

Even his girls had abandoned him not long after arriving; they'd been quick to find the alcohol, and had since been drinking like sponges, drunk and giggly as they danced together on the dancefloor. So now Kurt was alone, swirling the water in his cup around and doing his best to seem inconspicuous and not draw any unwanted attention to him. He couldn't tell you how many of the school jocks were present – the mass of red Letterman jackets a never-ending flow and shooting spikes of fear up his spine.

Fact was that most of the occupants of this little shindig were also the bullies he had to face everyday back at McKinley High, and the only reason he hadn't run away screaming yet was because he had to take care of his girls.

Well that and stealing small glances across the room at the boy dancing by himself to a beat only he could hear.

Ever since plastering himself to this piece of the wall Kurt had been shooting looks at the tall Asian boy, fascinated by the way the jock could move his body. He'd known that Mike could dance from Glee club, of course he did, but he'd never known _exactly_ how good he really was. Now though, now Mike was moving his body in ways that shouldn't be, his bones rolling and twisting unabashedly in impossible angles as he moved to a song contradicting the surprisingly gentle tune currently playing.

Kurt was not by far the only one watching this display of flexibility; all over the room girls were tittering to each other, peeking over and giggling as they blushed. Boys watched too, there was no denying that, but they did it more out of either amusement or sheer jealousy, knowing that their dates were more occupied with the bendy dancer than themselves.

Kurt really couldn't blame them.

Mike was intoxicating to watch; the way his limbs moved made shivers race up Kurt's back, and Kurt found himself wondering in what other ways the Asian jock could bend.

Preferably without those clothes obscuring his nice view, so that all of those rippling muscles could be on perfect display.

The thought had Kurt leaning his head back against the wall, his eyes closing on their own volition and his mouth watering as he imagined Mike dancing, only this time Kurt was the only one watching and this time his view wasn't hindered by the ridiculousness that was clothes.

The fact that Kurt found clothes to be something ridiculous and unwanted should be a testament to just how Mike was affecting him at the moment.

Still, just imagining that lean and muscled body bared before him as it moved in ways that shouldn't be possible had Kurt's mind reeling, his blood pumping hotly as goosebumps covered his skin. He licked his lips as pictures of Mike being bent over and exposing himself to Kurt appeared before his eyes, his fingers clenching lightly against the cup as he saw himself pushing that limber boy just how he wanted him. Of dominating him, and having Mike submit to his wishes. He thought about stroking that beautiful skin, of reveling in every little touch he could provide Mike with, of bringing them both such pleasure...

Opening his eyes Kurt realized his body was reacting strongly to the images that had been flitting before his eyelids, and that he was now sporting quite a bulge in his sinfully tight pants. Mouth suddenly dry remembering just how many of his day to day bullies were surrounding him Kurt panicked, hurrying out of the crowded room with only one spared glance towards the still dancing teen – making his body twitch in want through the panic – and running up the stairs.

Hiding himself in the first unoccupied room he could find Kurt sank down towards the floor, breathing hard as he pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes, his legs splayed out wide and his jeans tenting obscenely. Shuddering Kurt brought one of his hands down and pressed down against his stiff length, groaning at the miniscule relief it brought him.

What had he been thinking? Standing there in full view of _everybody_, fantasizing about doing unmentionable things to one of _them_. To one of the _straight_ – but undeniably gorgeous – jocks that littered the scene. Gaga, if they'd been able to read his thoughts Kurt would be dead by now.

But it had been _so_ hot!

Palming his erection softly Kurt exhaled with a stutter, his mind racing back to those glorious pictures forever imprinted into his brain. Once more he saw himself bending Mike in two, of pushing him down over various surfaces and lifting his legs over his head as Kurt plundered him for all he was worth. Of fucking that tight little hole as Mike showed off his incredible flexibility, and it only served to make Kurt even more aroused than he already was.

The silent knock to the door along with the hushed 'Kurt' brings him out of his fantasies, and he panics, wondering if whoever it is on the other side of the door knows what he's doing. If he's going to get beaten up now.

"Who is it?" he asks worriedly, hiding his face in his hands and willing himself not to hyperventilate.

"It's Mike. Open up."

Kurt awkwardly scrambled to his feet, staring at the door as if it was to burn him. Kurt's heart was beating like crazy as a thousand thoughts flitted by. 'Mike was out there. Why? Why was he there? Had he noticed Kurt staring? Had he come to beat Kurt up himself? Or was it something else?'

"Kurt." Mike called on the other side of the door, rattling the handle. "Come on, open the door."

Licking his lips – a habit when nervous – Kurt unlocked it and stepped back, looking down at the floor as he heard the other teen coming in.

"Kurt," Mike sighed, walking over to him and embracing him. He couldn't understand what was going on; Mike was hugging him – _hugging him_. Why wasn't Mike hitting him, punching him?

"Wha- why?" Kurt stuttered, aimlessly moving his hands, not sure whether he could return the hug or not.

Thankfully the other teen seemed to understand and hugged him in closer, guiding his arms around his broad shoulders. "I saw you leaving," Mike began, his hot breath hitting Kurt's neck as he spoke and making him shiver. "You looked upset, so I followed you."

"You didn't come to beat me up?" Kurt questioned, honestly perplexed by the other boy's actions and words.

Mike huffed. "Why would I?"

"Because I was staring at you," Kurt replied, burrowing down further into Mike's hold, attempting to hide himself.

"Is that it?" Mike wondered incredulously. "A lot of people downstairs were watching me. I'm not going to beat someone up for that. So why would I punch you?"

"Because I didn't just look at you," Kurt admitted, closing his eyes tightly. "I was fantasizing."

He could feel Mike stiffen against him, and Kurt knew that he had stepped in it. _Now_ he was getting beaten up.

But no. Instead of the expected retreat and flying punch Mike only relaxed, making Kurt open his eyes wonderously, and Mike even drew him in even closer. "Hmm," he hummed against his skin. "Really?"

And was Kurt imagining it, but did Mike actually sound... rather pleased by the idea? No, he was probably imagining it. There was no way...

"What did you think about?" Mike questioned him, his hands drawing up and down his back, stroking him softly, most likely attempting to calm him. Kurt shuddered, that breath against his ear coupled with those hands enough to make his mind blank.

"You," Kurt exhaled, eyes fluttering shut again. Mike chuckled, humming, and Kurt could feel the vibrations of it against his already trembling skin. "I wondered how flexible you can be," Kurt continued shyly, but encouraged by Mike's tranquility. "I thought about... about you bending over," Kurt breathed, feeling his cheeks heating up where he was hidden.

"Hmm," Mike rumbled pleasantly. "Did you now. What else did you think about?"

Kurt let his hands scramble against he fabric beneath them, clenching into the cotton as he mewed silently when Mike began nibbling the juncture between neck and shoulder. "I- I thought about... about bending you in two." Kurt breathed. "I thought about f-fucking you."

He groaned when he felt the taller teen bite down against his skin, his own hands roving down Mike's back and settling over his ass, that ass he had been thinking about for so long that night.

"You like my ass?" Mike asked, grinding back into his palms, and Kurt could only nod. Kurt really liked it, loved the feeling of it in his hands. "And you want to fuck it?" Once again Kurt nodded, his rosy cheeks burning as he hid against Mike's neck. "Then why don't you?"

Whirling his head up Kurt stared at Mike disbelievingly. Did he just..?

"Did you just ask me to fuck you?" Kurt blurted out, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes widening when he realized what he had just said.

"Yeah," Mike shrugged, his darkened eyes gazing steadily into his own.

"But aren't you..?" Kurt asked, his mind reeling from the information being bombarded at him at the moment. Surely Mike was straight. Wasn't he?

"I'm actually bi," the other teen answered. "But does that really matter?"

Kurt wasn't sure what to think. "Guess not."

"Good. So will you fuck me then? Bend me over and make me take it?" Mike asked, trailing his fingers down Kurt's neck and under the collar of his shirt, tracing the hidden skin there.

"Oh yes," Kurt breathed, eyes rolling back as he felt Mike crash their lips together.

The kiss was pure filth; their tongues and teeth knocking against each other's, spit going everywhere – not that either of them minded – as their hands grappled and groped wherever they could reach.

Hand reaching up and fingers curling into Mike's short hair Kurt pulled him back, their lips only half an inch apart as they panted heavily. "You wanted me to make you take it?" Kurt asked with a whisper to the jock, his eyes heavy lidded and making his eyelashes tickle Mike's skin.

Mike only whined, nodding and pushing himself towards Kurt, silently begging Kurt to kiss him again, but the countertenor was unrelenting, keeping a tight hold on the taller boy's hair and forcing him to keep the distance between them. "Words Mike, words," Kurt encouraged, his lips moving teasingly against the other teens.

"Yes, please," Mike begged, straining forward to reach Kurt's parted lips, whining when he couldn't quite reach.

"Okay," Kurt purred, giving Mike a rewarding peck. "Then strip."

Standing back Kurt watched entranced as Mike's chest heaved for a few moments, before the dancer began enticingly slowly removing his clothes, a teasing smile grazing those lips all the while. Kurt would object to the lack in pace had it not been so mind-blowingly arousing. Instead he only palmed his once again raging length, squeezing the base of it as inch by glorious inch was revealed to him.

"You too," Mike asked as he began unbuttoning his pants, shooting Kurt a playful look. And the young countertenor couldn't agree more, at once beginning to shed his own designer pieces, not bothering with folding them as he just dropped them on the carpeted floor.

It wasn't long before they both were completely naked, not a single thread covering their skin as they looked at each other, admiring the other boy's body. Kurt was drooling as he stared at those etched out abs, wanting nothing more than to lick and trace every inch of them, committing them to memory. And those broad shoulders, those subtle but strong biceps, those supple thighs... That cock...

"Can I," Kurt asked, reaching his hand out, hovering it over Mike's hip. When receiving a gentle nod Kurt was quick to plaster himself against the dancer, gripping his hips as he dove in for another soaring kiss. He could feel so much more now that nothing lay between them; could feel the twitching of Mike's muscles, the thrumming of his heart against Kurt's own chest, the pulsing of the other boy's cock against his own.

"Do you have lube?" Kurt panted, breaking away for air. There was no way they could ever go through with what he had planned if they didn't – not that there wasn't other things they could do but Kurt really wanted to fuck the other boy.

"Naw," Mike shook his head. Then his eyes lit up, "but I bet Puck does." Then he broke away, walking over to the bedside table and rummaging through it, soon brandishing a half-full bottle of lube.

Only then did Kurt notice that the room they were in was definitely that of their friend; the general mess despite being obviously cleaned for the evening as well as the many posters of half-naked women hung up on the walls a tell-tale sign of it's occupant.

He shuddered wondering what else this bedroom had been objected to apart from the two of them. This particular encounter would probably not even come close to any of the most dirty and naughty things that had played out in here.

Grabbing the bottle away from the naked jock Kurt looked at it more closely, snorting when he read the label. "Anal lube? Guess Puck's got some secrets going on..."

Shaking his head Kurt looked up on Mike who was shaking with suppressed laughter as well. "He's never mentioned anything in the locker room," he supplies. "And he usually raves about everything he gets to do, so..."

Kurt decides to think about that for a later time, when he isn't otherwise occupied. Instead he steps closer to Mike and strokes his arm, gripping his bicep and leading him backwards against the desk by the window. Silently he guides him to bend over it, easily stretching his right leg up beside him and leaving Kurt with the most wonderful sight ever.

He can't quite believe it when he sees what exactly is spread apart for him; can't quite trust his luck when it comes to this stunning guy left wide open for him, his wrinkled little hole exposed and just begging him to wreck it. Kurt eagerly palms those beckoning cheeks in his palms, kneading the gorgeous flesh as he rocks in against that cleft, his dick catching once or twice on that tiny opening, making them both groan from the friction.

Backing away Kurt bends over, spreading those cheeks apart and licking broadly over the entire crack, listening to those splendid noises leaving Mike's mouth. It's not long however until he longs to be buried inside that tight heat instead of just nuzzling down against it, so Kurt pulls back and reaches for the bottle of lube.

Smearing some on his fingers Kurt strokes across Mike's lower back, calming him and reassuring him about what's to come. He suckles some of the skin on Mike's shoulder into his mouth when he begins tracing the luscious little rim with his fingers, and then bites down softly as he pushes the first digit inside.

Mike takes it easily, his muscles fluttering around Kurt's finger, so it isn't many minutes until Kurt has introduced both a second and third finger. Stretching and scissoring the dancer apart Kurt listens as a litany of beautiful, lascivious moans and pleads tumble out of Mike's throat.

"Please Kurt, can you-" Mike begs, his head thrashing as he pushes himself back on Kurt's nimble fingers. "Oh God, please- just- please fuck me. Now. Please?"

"Of course sweetheart," Kurt coos, gently pulling out his fingers and turning Mike around. Prying the Asian's lips apart Kurt licks his way into that delicious little mouth. "Are you okay with me not wearing a condom? I'm sure I can find something of Puck's otherwise."

"Don't care," Mike mumbles throatily, "anything, just- do whatever. Just fuck me please?"

So Kurt slathers a generous amount of the liquid onto his rock hard length, before pushing the dancer up on his feet and pushing him up against the wall, making Mike moan from the harsh contact. "Oh, I'm sorry sweetie," Kurt apologizes mischievously, picking up his leg and slowly stretching it up, up, up until the ankle is hooked up on his shoulder, Mike's other leg only reaching the floor with his toes.

Kurt's amazed and so incredibly turned on by Mike's flexibility, and so, so anxious to finally be buried to that tight, wet heat. So taking himself in hand Kurt guides himself against Mike's winking hole, and groans along with the jock as he pushes inside. Mike's hands are gripping his arms, his fingers digging in hard and most definitely leaving bruises in their wake, but Kurt is doing just the same thing to Mike's defined hips so he's _very_ willing to just overlook that.

Having concluded that Mike is very much a virgin coming into this Kurt starts out gentle, his thrust shallow and soft, only gradually building up to the pace he'd much rather keep. He's listening to Mike's keens and broken words – pushing in quicker and harder when asked for, and slowing himself when Mike's wails breaks in the wrong way.

When Mike's knees buckle as Kurt apparently finds the little magical spot Kurt pick up that thigh as well, moving to wrap it around his own middle, but Mike grabs it himself and instead stretches it up and hooking that as well over Kurt's shoulder, effectively bending the dancer in half. It only serves at leaving Kurt breathless as he plunders Mike's hole, his thrust angled so much better now and repeatedly finding that bundle of nerves, sending Mike reeling.

"Oh, oh, Kurt. There, right there, please- come on, oh fuck me," Mike pleads, his head lolling as Kurt pounds his raw hole.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll take care of you," Kurt whimpers, biting his bottom lip from how good Mike feels around him. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, sweetie."

On one particularly hard thrust Mike screams out, coming between them and splattering his chest, chin and nose with his own come, almost blacking out as Kurt barrels on. The sight of Mike with streaks of come dangling from his face is the most erotic thing Kurt has ever has the fortune to gaze upon, and he can't drag his eyes away as he bucks into that twitching ass.

The dancer has just about enough time to recover and harden once again before Kurt can feel his own orgasm creep up, and with no possibility of holding himself back Kurt buries himself in deep and just coats those clenching walls with his cum, the groan leaving him filthy to his own ears.

Feeling just how tired his arms are getting Kurt gently lets Mike down onto the floor, and helps the boneless teen towards the bed. Despite it's questionable state it's still a bed, and it will be good for them both at the moment.

He remembers that Mike is still hard when he's about to pull the sheets up and cover his body, and an idea shoots through his mind, making his spent dick twitch against his thigh.

"Mike," Kurt wonders, looking into those dark brown eyes. "You're really flexible, right?" Mike only shoots him a disbelieving look, and_ oh_ right. "Sorry, what I meant was, do you think you can suck your own dick?"

Mike only splutters, his mouth opening and closing on it's on volition. "...Maybe," is what eventually leaves his lips, his lightly tanned skin flushing adorably, and Kurt thinks that there might me more to that story, but chooses not to dig into it at the moment.

"Think you can try right now? I want to try something."

And thus Kurt watches as Mike scoots himself a little bit up against the headboard before heaving his legs up towards him. Kurt's left panting as Mike grabs his own thighs and wiggles himself closer and closer until he can lick a small strip up his own head.

It's even better when watching those small drips of come drizzling down the cleft of his ass.

Shifting himself closer Kurt begins lapping up those stray drops of come, swallowing them down with a purr as he keeps an eye on Mike as he tentatively sucks his own head into his mouth.

Spreading his ass apart Kurt runs his tongue down over Mike's loosened and swollen rim. His tongue catches more of his own come, and he burrows himself down closer, finding and swallowing as much of that come down as he can find. His chin and nose are buried against Mike's flesh as he spears that hole on his tongue, lapping up every little drop within his reach.

"Can I fuck you again?" Kurt wonders when his cock has hardened again, laying long and thick against his thigh. Mike only grunts around his own length, eyes rolling back, his hands beckoning Kurt closer.

Re-lubing his dick Kurt awkwardly sinks his way inside Mike, the angle a bit off with him more or less squatting over the jock to be able to properly reach, but the feeling of those clutching muscles around him is too amazing for him to care. And him filling the Asian dancer so deep has Mike doubling his own efforts, giving Kurt the chance to watch him suck his own dick in a way that can only be described as carnal and wild and raw.

The muffled slurps and moans from Mike is sending Kurt into a frenzy of his own; pounding that ass before him as good as he can, the slick sounds around him so filthy and obscene. Not many minutes passes before Kurt curses out his second orgasm, filling up that greedy little hole again as his mind turns hazy.

Pulling out Kurt kneels back down, immediately plunging three fingers in deep and fucking Mike hard. "You like that huh?" he praises, pushing in again. "Like being stuffed full, having something deep inside you. Bet you like having my cum up your delicious little ass, bet it gets you all hot and wanton. I'm right, ain't I?" Kurt questions, only receiving a broken whine as he's thrusting into Mike hard enough to make him back onto his own mouth one, two, three times before Mike breaks away and grumbles out his own release, shooting rope after rope onto his own face. There's come covering his cheeks, his nose, mouth, eyes and even his hair.

If Kurt hadn't already come – twice at that – he would've been hard in moments just from that picture alone.

Easing Mike down Kurt finds him a few tissues to clean up his face with, washing off his leaking ass and his own dick himself.

"_That_ was what you were thinking downstairs?" Mike asks reverently after catching his breath, Kurt laying snuggled up beside him on the smallish bed. "You should've dragged me off sooner."

"I didn't fantasize about _all_ of that, you know," Kurt argues. The rimming hadn't been any part of his plans... "And I don't recall dragging you off at all."

"Still," Mike reels, chuckling quietly. "I just came _twice_, I'm pretty sure I would've been okay with you playing out every idea of yours down there if you made me do that."

"Are you telling me you have an exhibitionist kink, 'cause I'm not too sure I'm on board with that," Kurt jokes, slapping Mike's shoulder lightly.

"Spoilsport," Mike jokes back. "Hmm. You made me come _twice_. I didn't know I could do that."

Kurt hums, drawing patterns down the dancers abs. "I'm impressed you can suck you're own dick. Wish I could do that."

When Mike keeps silent Kurt glances up at him, only to find the Asian boy looking down at him mischievously. "You could learn."

"Wha- what do you- you're crazy," Kurt stammers, blushing furiously. And come on, he'd just fucked this boy. Twice. Why the hell is he blushing like a little virgin?

"No, I'm not," Mike hurries, excitedly sitting back up. "Now come on, you gotta sit like this..."


	15. Finn

**Pairing: Kurt/Finn.**

**Prompt: Bubble bath sex. No using bubbles as lube.**

**Words: 3032**

**Kinks: Handjob, intercrural sex, neck worship.**

**AN: Feels rushed, don't know if it really matters in the end.**

* * *

><p>It was the clanging of pots and pans that first caught Kurt's attention as he opened the door to his and Finn's small New York apartment. He initially thought nothing of it, as it was usual for Finn to make himself grilled sandwiches as an afternoon snack, but as the faint smell of burning chocolate wafted over as he dropped his keys into the small bowl on the dresser by the door he began to worry. Finn didn't have the greatest of track records in the kitchen; anything more technically difficult than pancakes would usually end up in disaster when Finn would try to cook, and Kurt really didn't want to spend the night scrubbing whatever pot now had burnt in chocolate in the bottom. He'd much rather just cuddle up to his husband on the couch and watch a movie.<p>

Hurrying through the living room Kurt found himself shell-shocked as he reached the kitchen, watching the sight before him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. The room was an outright catastrophe. Flour and egg was smeared over the counter-tops, the walls were smeared with chocolate and even more eggs, the floor... the floor was absolutely flooded with milk. There was even smears of brown on his usually crisp white roof; how Finn had managed to get it there in the first place Kurt couldn't understand.

And in the middle of the room stood his husband; covered from head to toe in various ingredients, a small tray of mostly burnt cookies in his hands, and a proud grin on his face.

Kurt stared at the mess before him; eyes tracing over every single little glob of cookie dough splattered onto the cupboards and the refrigerator, watching the huge pile of bowls and utensils resting in the sink... watching the hours of cleaning this calamity before him represented.

He didn't even want to know the state of the oven.

Kurt could feel the calm evening he'd planned all day at work just fly away as he took in the room before him. Though, he couldn't even be truly upset and unhappy about it, not with how ecstatic and proud Finn looked holding the finished cookies in his hand. His husband was such a little puppy sometimes, and Kurt honestly loved that, even if it sometimes meant a little more work to clean up his messes than Kurt wanted.

And this particular picture before him? It was just another thing about Finn that Kurt loved. His husband may be inept at cooking and baking, but it didn't mean he wouldn't stop trying, and Kurt would be there for every success and failure Finn did in the kitchen.

It was with a small blissful sigh that Kurt finally entered the room, careful not to step into anything as he made his way over to his husband. He took the tray from Finn's hands and placed it on the kitchen table before leaning up on his tippy toes and pecking his husband on the cheek.

"I see you've been having fun while I was working," Kurt joked merrily, a patient smile on his lips as he once again looked around the room. "How long have you been baking anyway?"

"Uhm," Finn began, rolling back and forth on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back, looking even more of a five year old on a sugar rush than usual. "A while, I guess. They were making these really complicated Christmas cookies on TV that looked _soo_ good Kurt, but since I knew I could never ever make them myself I thought that those chocolate chip cookies you always make would taste just as good, and they don't seem too hard to do. So I decided to try and do those instead. They aren't really that bad, you should try them."

Kurt chuckled, wondering how many cookies Finn had managed to eat already. There only seemed to be about six or so left, so it had probably been a lot. Finn was going to be on such a sugar high, wasn't he?

"I think I will," Kurt promised. "But first we are going to get you cleaned up. You go and take a bath to get rid of all the flour and egg yolk in your hair. I'll stay here and clean up this mess."

Finn shook his head vehemently at Kurt's preposition. "Nuh-uh, dude. I'll clean it up later, I promise." Kurt watched as Finn looked over himself. "Though I guess you're right about the bath."

"You think?" Kurt chuckled and began herding the tall man out of his kitchen. "And it's no worry, it'll be fun to clean that disaster up," Kurt added dryly.

"You know, I'm not good with understanding when you're sarcastic or not, but I definitely think you are this time," Finn stated as he pulled Kurt with him to the bathroom. "But you shouldn't have to clean up my mess. So how 'bout this: we'll both clean it up. Later. For now, how about you join me in the bathroom? We can kiss and stuff, and I'll even let you put your gunk into my hair and on my face."

"It's normal conditioner Finn, it only smells like vanilla and coconut," Kurt sighed at having to explain it one more time. "It's not any different from the strawberry one that you use. Except maybe smelling better."

"So you'll take the bath with me?" Finn grinned excitedly.

Such a puppy.

"Yeah, sure, just make sure to put in some of my bath salts – the lavender one – with your regular bubbles," Kurt chuckled as Finn turned on the tap and begun filling up the bathtub, pouring a generous dose of bubble bath and a pinch of Kurt's precious salts inside. The bathtub was a big thing, bought specifically so they could both fit in there without feeling cramped and awkward. "Besides," Kurt added, "your skin will thank me for taking a bath with you, now that I'll get to put my 'gunk' on it."

Finn only whooped and snuck a few kisses from Kurt before he began taking off the sweater he was wearing. Kurt smiled happily as he at a more sedated speed began unbuttoning his shirt, folding it neatly before getting his pants off. By the time Kurt was getting his underwear off Finn was already sat in the tub, the hot bubbled water reaching up to his waist as he watched Kurt strip before him.

Kurt smiled at the hand reaching out for his own as he stepped closer, and he gratefully took the offered hand as he stepped into the tub, enjoying the other hand that was steadying his hip as he sat down between Finn's long legs.

Leaning back against his husband broad chest Kurt closed his eyes and just relaxed into the bubbles around him. This was much more like what he had wanted his night to be after a day of hell at work; to just relax and breathe beside his man as he calmed down. The warmth from the water relaxing his strained muscles only added to that peaceful moment.

What relaxed him even more though was the big hands falling onto his shoulders and gently kneading all the tension away expertly. While baking certainly wasn't one of his husband's strengths, massages certainly were. Finn had even taken a class during collage where he'd learned more about it, at first thinking it would be an easy credit but later finding how much he'd enjoyed it. Finn had never made a career out of it in the end, but Kurt had certainly reaped from his expertise.

"Uh," Kurt moaned appreciatively when Finn found a particularly tangled knot of muscles at the back of his neck. "Feels so good when you do that."

"Uh-huh," Finn laughed teasingly, though Kurt couldn't care less, not when the tall tenor pressed his thumbs in a little harder and drew several low moans out of Kurt, "I can definitely hear that."

"Oh, shut up," Kurt grumbled good-naturedly, stretching his neck to the side and inviting Finn's touch to where he wanted it. Finn complied, as expected, and new moans and grateful groans tumbled out of his mouth with every little touch to his neck and shoulders.

Soon Kurt could feel a mouth joining in on the fun; biting into the soft and relaxed muscles that Finn had abandoned after untangling them, now instead letting Finn's teeth marking them up and straining them again – only this time in such a better way.

"Oh!" Kurt cried out lowly when he felt those teeth against his skin, the sound resonating through the tile walled room and sounding sinful to Kurt's own ears. "Are you sure you want to start something? Don't think I'll let you stop if you do," Kurt warned.

"Oh, I definitely want something," Finn murmured against his skin, the vibrations making Kurt shiver pleasantly.

Kurt could feel himself hardening quickly in time with the assault on his skin, just as he could feel the length behind him thickening and stretching against his lower back behind him. Kurt knew that if he leant up and forward just slightly that cock would get trapped in the cleft of his ass, and though it was seriously tempting, Kurt held himself back and let Finn continue with his ministrations instead. The worship going on to his neck was just as good as having Finn rut up against his ass, so it wasn't exactly a dissatisfaction, very much the opposite if anything.

Reaching his arm up behind himself Kurt tangled his bubble-covered fingers into his husbands knotted hair, frowning slightly at the feeling of dried egg yolk against his fingertips, but forgetting all about it and tugging it a little bit instead when Finn bites into his marble colored flesh lightly.

"I'm going to look like I've been beaten up and mugged tomorrow when I go to work won't I?" Kurt sighs when Finn sucks a new piece of skin into his mouth, trembling pleasantly from the sparks rushing through his bones when those teeth drags against his sensitive flesh.

"Naw, just like you got eaten or something," Finn states happily, going to town and devouring the little piece of skin just below Kurt's left ear, that little part of his body that always has Kurt moaning like some wanton whore.

"Oh! Oh, oh. Ah! Like- like that's an-any better," Kurt whines, bucking back towards the tall man, needing so much more than he did mere seconds earlier. That fucking little traitorous spot, turning him into some slut even if it's barely grazed.

It should be ashamed of itself.

Or given an award.

"I think it is," Finn jovially responds, thumbing over the little patch of marked skin and making Kurt shudder. "Everyone'll know you're mine. Besides, we both know you'll wear one of your scarf-things anyway."

Kurt doesn't dignify it with a response, only arches his back against Finn when he licks a broad stripe up the side of his neck and simultaneously reaches a hand around Kurt to pinch and play with one of Kurt's stiff nipples.

Maybe Kurt should let Finn bake more cookies in the future – it certainly seems like it's worth it...

"Lube," Kurt gasps when Finn traces his other nipple with his fingertips. "Do we have any lube in here?"

"I don't think so, didn't we use that up last week or something?" Finn asks in return, preening so much Kurt's worried it will be a fixed feature. "Why?"

"Wanted you to fuck me," Kurt admits, pushing his back against Finn's hardened cock. "But if we don't have any lube it won't work."

"We can use the bubbles," Finn suggests as he circles his hand around Kurt's length, teasing him.

"Absolutely not!" Kurt shouts. "God knows how badly it would hurt! Not to mention how unhygienic it would be."

"Geez, calm down Kurt. It was just a joke," Finn mumbles as he grasps onto Kurt's dick and begins to stroke him leisurely under the water.

"Mhmm, right," Kurt says, unconvinced, but bucks his hips up non the less against Finn's closed fist. Then an idea sparks in his mind, and he's quick to swat Finn's hand away from himself.

Getting his feet under himself Kurt resorts to kneeling down on the porcelain, looking behind himself when he lowers himself onto his arms as well, his hips and ass canting up into the air. "You could fuck my thighs though," he offers, jiggling said thighs enticingly.

"Don't we need lube for that as well?" Finn wonders, though he gets in position behind Kurt and stroking him across his wet back. "We always use lube when we do it in bed."

"It'll be fine," Kurt assures him, waving the concern off. "The water will be enough for this. So you should just – fuck me!" Kurt breaks off in a scream when Finn aligns himself so he'll push himself between Kurt's supple thighs right alongside Kurt's balls and dick, nudging them when he moves and jostling Kurt from his thoughts.

Adjusting his legs so that Finn'll get a tighter space to thrust against Kurt let's himself just roll with Finn's motions; the hands gripping onto his hips tightly dragging him back whenever Finn pushes forward and helping him lean back up when he draws back. The constant friction against his dick and balls is wonderful though, and Kurt wonders absentmindedly why they aren't doing this more than they are. It's easier than stretching themselves every other day, and clean-up is just as quick, not to mention that it feels just as awesome as it does having Finn filling him.

"Mmm," he hums, his head lolling back and forth as the water splashes around them. "Feels so good Finn. So, so good. Uh! Maybe – maybe a little quicker though?" Kurt pleads, his hips rocking back to meet the taller man's thrusts.

"Uh-huh, sure, whatever you want," Finn grunts and shifts a little before practically boring himself between Kurt's milky white thighs, making Kurt moan from the wonderful rubbing against his dick.

The snapping of skin against skin as well as the sploshing of water echoes through the room – the only sounds apart from the steady stream of silent noises passing both of their lips, the only sounds apart from the encouraging words and pleads traded between them.

"Oh, yes, Finn. Fuck me!"

"God, Kurt, so tight!"

"Yes, there, right there!"

"Feel so good, so good!"

Soon Kurt can feel Finn beginning to stutter behind himself, can feel him beginning to thrust so much more erratically than before, and he knows that his husband is about to come. So when he not only feels Finn's seed shooting out between his thighs and staining them white – but also feels a thumb pressing against his rim, though not enough to push inside, Kurt comes with a shudder of his own. Shooting white strands of come into the water below him Kurt growls out with pleasure, the only thing holding him up being Finn's hands as he looses all control of his limbs.

His arms are shaking enjoyably when he manages to calm down enough to sit up on his knees, his muscles feeling loose and sated as he leans back against Finn again. Finn too seems satiated where he's resting with his head against the wall, his arms weakly clutching at Kurt when he realizes the smaller man is leaning back against his chest again.

"Did we really come that hard?" Finn asks deftly, his closed eyes tilted towards the ceiling.

"Yep," Kurt mumbles tiredly, always so unexplainably drowsy after he's come. "Why did we come so hard?"

"No idea."

"Hmm." Kurt hums, opening one eye and gazing down at the water before him. The bubbles are long gone, having dissipated while they fucked like the animals they sometimes seemed to be. Instead he can see his come floating obscenely on the surface, and groans realizing they can't get clean in this water now. "We'll have to take a shower soon. You still haven't washed your hair, and there's cum in the water now, so we can't use that. And I who just wanted to sleep now," Kurt whines pitifully, already so sleepy and ready for a quick nap.

"Don't worry, dude," Finn's deep voice rumbles against his skin, breaking him out of his sour and grumpy mood, "you only need to wash off anyway and then you can just walk off when I get this stuff out of my hair. I'll join you in bed later, how 'bout that?"

"Sounds good," Kurt grumbles admittedly, standing up and letting Finn pull the plug from the bottom of the tub, the soiled water rushing away in quick rivulets.

Turning on the shower as the water quickly disappears between his feet Kurt is quick to get himself cleaned off, only doing the bare minimum before stepping out and leaving Finn in there by himself.

"Just remember," Kurt calls as he dries himself off, "when I wake up again you're going to let me moisturize that skin before we clean up the kitchen."

Finn only grunts sulkily under the hot spray of water, and Kurt leaves the bathroom with the towel secured around his hips.

* * *

><p>When Finn emerges from the bathroom not ten minutes later Kurt is already fast asleep in their big king-sized bed. Finn only smiles down gently at his husband, places a quick but soft kiss against his rosy cheek before grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and leaves the room to get the kitchen sorted.<p>

Because maybe – if he get's that kitchen cleaned before Kurt wakes up – Kurt won't remember Finn's promise about letting him put that gunk on his face.

Or at least he might reward Finn by only using one of his hundreds of bottles with gunk.

One can hope. Right?


	16. Mercedes

**Pairing: Kurt/Mercedes.**

**Prompt: Secret-established relationship...**  
><strong>Kurt &amp; Mercedes have decided to keep their relationship quiet because they have seen what happens to a relationship once become Glee Club knowledge, but Kurt's feeling a bit vindictive since Mercedes has been teasing him all day so while watching the other group perform (ie. it's another split the club in two challenge) Kurt fingers Mercedes who is seating next to him all the whispering all the dirty things he'd like to do her once they get a moment alone.<strong>

**Words: 2444**

**Kinks: Fingering, dirty talk, in public, orgasm denial.**

**AN: The prompt does say that the club should be split into two for their performances, but I chose to make them into three groups, so that there will be more of the teasing goodness. :)**

**Sadly there is only one remaining girl after this, and y'all have to wait 'til the 21****th**** for that ;P**

**5 am. Should really sleep longer, but ah, the need to catch the bus for work... :/**

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><p>Mercedes was evil.<p>

Kurt knew this with certainty. He knew without a doubt that the gorgeous soprano was nothing but pure evil when she wanted to be. And today? Today she _definitely_ wanted to be a pain in his ass.

They had been dating for the past three and a half months now – still not mentioning a thing about their relationship to the club; not only not wanting to explain the complexity of his sexuality coupled with his attraction for the stunning black girl but also because things always broke once they became official in that room, and that wasn't to mention how it was rather hot to sneak off and try to keep everything a secret – and today Mercedes had been teasing him in every way she knew how.

First and foremost: she had shown up to school in a freaking Santa dress. The red velvet of it hugging her body as white faux fur lay neatly across the middle of her thighs and over her supple breasts, in reality not showing him a thing but hinting at the many treasures hiding beneath. She also wore a Santa hat, though Kurt hadn't taken as much notice of that as of the knee-high boots that hugged her calves so alluringly.

All day Kurt had wanted nothing more but to remove those shoes and fucking _lick_ her calves.

And those stupid candy canes... Mercedes had brought with her a box full of them, spending all three of the classes they shared just devouring those things. Licking up the sides of them, sucking them into her hallowed cheeks and practically blowing them. Kurt had been on the verge of coming so many times during class that day he was going stupid.

That's not to mention the hundreds of texts he'd received from the girl that day, or lunch where she had not only blown another one of those lollies but also kept her hand straying teasingly over his thigh and other areas no matter how many times he'd removed that persistent hand. She had dragged him into one of the janitor closets and kissed him furiously, pawing at his groin and just going crazy – or at least she did until the bell rang, then she left him there, uncomfortably hard and with no chance of getting rid of his erection if he wanted to be in time for the next class. She had leaned up against him in between their classes, appearingly just whispering secrets into his ears, as in reality she had mostly just panted breathily and describing various different things they'd done together or that she wanted to do, leaving him with no other choice but to cover up his awkward boner with his messenger bag.

And just minutes ago, as they were walking through the deserted hallways together towards the auditorium where they were supposed to meet for glee that day Kurt had dropped his books, and Mercedes had just casually leaned down and plucked them up.

Though not before giving him a good look of what was hiding beneath her skirt. Which – surprisingly – did _not_ involve a pair of panties. No, the girl was all bare underneath that dress, showing him all of her luscious ass and her glistening pussy, making Kurt's heart miss a beat as he lost his breath momentarily.

Safe to say that he had been distracted when he and Mercedes along with Brittany and Santana had performed their song. He'd been messing up his steps, as well as being late for some of his queues – all in all not doing one of his best appearances on that stage.

Now though, now... now he was getting his revenge. Mercedes may have left him more or less achingly hard all day, but now he would give it back tenfold.

Dragging the girl with him a few rows behind everybody else the two sat down, Kurt's hand immediately falling to rest on her bared thigh, caressing it. Should anyone look they would all think he was paying rapt attention to the second group of performers entering the stage, but the fact was he was more than lost into the fantasies that had been torturing him throughout the day.

When the first notes rang out around them Kurt leant his head closer to the shorter girl's, and as his fingers started drawing swirling patterns against her soft skin Kurt began muttering in her ear. "You really shouldn't have teased me like that all day, 'Cedes. Want to know why? Because for every minute you teased me today, I will give it back tenfold." Leaning closer still Kurt turned so he was facing the young girl fully. "I will make you _beg_."

Then he sat back, smirking as he allowed his hand to travel up her leg further, straying below the soft fabric of her skirt, hitching it up higher. Mercedes was already breathing shallowly, and Kurt had been able to tell that her eyes were blackened from behind her heavy lids during his short look before.

"Do you want to know the best part Merce?" Kurt continued slowly, fingertips playing against the crease of her thigh, slowly moving over to her shaved mound, finding the traces of slickness already residing there. "The best part is that your... punishment, if you will, starts right... now!" With that Kurt found the tiny little nub, squeezing it between his thumb and point finger, rolling it between them for many long seconds.

Mercedes was quick to bite onto her bottom lip, but yet small whimpers managed to escape, though nothing loud enough for any of the others to be able to detect and listen in on.

"My, my, my, sweetie," Kurt cooed, releasing the small clit, instead letting his fingers splay her open and stroking her swelling pussy lips. "You need to be quiet, hun, don't want to draw the others attention, now do we?"

She only shook her head, head falling down on his shoulder as her breath stuttered out. "Good girl," Kurt praised, fingering across her opening and coaxing more and more juices to seep out of her. "Now, do you want to know what I'm gonna do to you when we get out of here? I'm gonna take you back to my place – my dad is visiting his sister this week, you know – and I'm gonna make you strip out of that delectable little dress of yours. The boots might stay though," he added thoughtfully, licking his lips imagining it, "haven't quite decided yet." The last part was whispered jovially, as he dipped the very tip of his first fingertip inside.

Around them the music was playing loudly, though neither of them could hear a single note of it, not really. The only thing Mercedes was hearing were the glorious words Kurt was whispering into his ear, and the one thing Kurt could comprehend were the soft mewls that were slipping past Mercedes' lips.

"Then I'm gonna tie you up," Kurt breathed against her hair, his finger pressing further into her as she spread her legs apart ever so slightly, her breath hitching at his words. Taking advantage of her fondness for being immobilized was a cheap move, but a fun one just as well. "Maybe with those silk scarves you like... or if you want to we could use the handcuffs I got the other day. I planned to give you them after Christmas, but I'm starting to think they'd be more amusing to use now instead. Thoughts?"

"Uh-huh," she agreed, head nodding quickly, "sound good. Sounds _so_ good."

"Glad you like it," Kurt grinned, having a feeling she wouldn't so much when actually in said act. He started pushing his finger in harder, thrusting it in and out of her as she panted her approval. "Now is where I'm starting to get conflicted. Just _what_ am I going to make you go through, hun? Just what will I do to make you beg, when there is absolutely _nothing_ you can do to make me stop?"

He had to bite his own tongue before he would spill even more words out, because before them their friends were wrapping up their number, doing final jazz hands as the tune died out – most likely by Rachel's insistence Kurt figured. Such a shame they'd picked such a short song, obviously the Jewish diva hadn't gotten her way with everything in the group, otherwise it would have been far longer, with Rachel singing the major lead.

Kurt kind of wished they would have bid to whatever wish Rachel had enquired, but, oh well.

Drawing his finger back from Mercedes the countertenor politely clapped, whooping lightly with the rest of his classmates in the audience. Beside him Mercedes clapped as well, squirming slightly in her seat from the slick feeling between her supple thighs. Kurt only smirked.

Eyes glued to the final group entering the stage Kurt let his hand go straight back to their former occupation, two fingers plunging deep into her drenched pussy.

When at last the music started back up around them Kurt continued right where he left off, his fingers fucking in and out of that tight hole as he spoke. "I'm debating whether I should find myself a nice little feather, just torment you with a touch so light it will do nothing but make you shiver over and over again, or if I should break out the little vibrator. It would be fun to torture that little clit of yours until it throbs and you're quivering from how close you are to coming, only to rip it away and leaving you untouched, forcing you to calm down. Sound good?"

"Mhmm, it does," she whined, clenching her eyes shut momentarily as a frown set across her forehead, and Kurt suspected it to be because of his fingertips that he had tipped up so that they dragged against her internal wall, where he knew they might just find her alleged g-spot. Seemed like he'd succeeded.

"Then again I could always go a little traditional and simply finger you 'til the brink of orgasm, sort of like I am now, make you reach the edge so many times you'll sob from how intense it'll feel." The scenarios Kurt was describing were getting to him as well as Mercedes, for while she writhed and quietly mewed he was positively aching beneath the tightness of his jeans. He couldn't wait until he got home and were able to remove them, maybe at last get some relief on his poor length that had been tormented for so long now.

But at the same time he didn't want to encourage her past behavior by granting her such a view.

"I might use a blindfold as well, don't want you knowing what I'm planning to do to you before I do them. I want you to wonder, I don't want you to expect anything about what I will give you. What I _won't_ give you. But don't you worry sweetie, I can promise you that you won't be allowed to come for a long time, and that you will be leaking so much of your delicious juices before I'm done that the bedding will be fucking drenched."

Mercedes was grasping his shirt tightly in her fist, her pelvis making small rolling motions against his fingers, drawing them deeper. He could tell she was getting close, the familiar feeling of her clenching muscles around him a tell-tale sign.

"Maybe I should get you to blow me," Kurt continued, whispering his filthy words straight into her ear. He was speaking slowly; his dragged out words such a contrast to the way he was punishing that pussy with his fingers. "Make you lick me all wet and slick before I fuck that pretty mouth of yours. I could come deep down your throat and feel you swallow around me, or I could paint that gorgeous face with little strips of my cum, watch it dribble down your cheeks and catch on your eyelashes. Or perhaps I should fuck that greedy little pussy of yours, it's already clasping around my fingers so tightly, I wonder how badly it would clench around my dick. I bet you'd never want me to pull out, am I right? You don't like being empty, correct? But aw, sweetie, I'd have to pull out, if only to push in even harder, stretch you so impossibly wide around me, make you milk that cum out of me. You still wouldn't get to come, not unless I told you to, but you'd love it anyway, wouldn't you? Such a good girl for me, taking whatever I'd give you. Not complaining when I won't give you something, like how I won't let you come right now like your little cunt wants to."

And at last Kurt pulled his fingers out of her dripping hole, sucking the digits into his mouth and groaning lowly at the marvelous taste surrounding them. Beside him Mercedes was trembling, breath stuttering brokenly from how close she had been to coming, only to have been robbed of the upcoming sensations when Kurt had drawn back.

Before the two the final group were taking their bow, and the two lovers applauded them when gathering their bearings – a little late with their praise, but nonetheless appreciated. As the teens made their way off the stage Mr. Schue stood up from his seat, addressing the whole group. "You all did such good work this week, love those great Christmas classics you pulled out and reinvented. But now that that's done I think we have earned ourselves to end practice a little early. Go on Christmas break a few minutes in advance. What do you guys say?"

Of course everybody agreed with the teacher, all of them quick to say their goodbyes and swift to make their exits. Bar Rachel of course, who was trying to rally everybody back inside so that they could start practicing for their upcoming Regionals competition. "It's only two and a half months left you guys!" she shouted after them as they filed out the auditorium.

Kurt had no intention whatsoever of going back. No, he had this amazing girlfriend of his that he was going to torture – or worship, really – and there was no way he was trading that for an unnecessary practice.

"So," Mercedes asked as they sat down in the Navigator, her legs pressed tight against each other. "You're gonna make good on those promises, right?"

"Oh, always, my sweet."


	17. Rory

**Pairing: Kurt/Rory**

**Prompt: Something bad happens at school (Rory was beaten up badly, maybe?) and Kurt comes across him on the phone to his mother and crying fairly badly.**  
><strong>Once Rory hangs up, Kurt goes to comfort him and somehow it turns into sweet and gentle kissing from there it turns into hand-jobsblow-jobs and possibly anal sex.**  
><strong>If there's any mention of Blaine in this, Blaine and Kurt either:<strong>  
><strong>Decided to just be friends or are in an open relationship.<strong>  
><strong>No scat, vore, watersports, character death, etc.<strong>

**Words: 2730**

**Kinks: Handjob, blowjob.**

**AN: So, I've been gone for a few days, but like promised I will now give you the next three installments in quick succession. So... here.**

* * *

><p>"...N-no mom, I- I'm fine," Kurt hears a faint voice sob out as he walks down the hallway of McKinley High, and he instantly halts his steps, worry creeping into his mind. He recognizes those kinds of all-consuming sobs; so familiar from years of producing them himself when he was certain nobody could hear them and the pain of being bullied and hated came to be too much, the tears just welling over without control.<p>

"No, I- I just f-feel so _stupid_, mom. I sh-should've _known_," the voice continues unsteadily, and Kurt can hear it sound out weakly through the choir room door. Just that should have made Kurt's brain flash with warning signs when he walked by it seconds earlier, because that door is _never closed_ – there's no need for it to ever be closed, the only people entering the room are part of the glee club or the band.

Silently making his way to the door Kurt peers in through the window, not surprised when he finds Rory burrowed down in the far corner of the room, his knees drawn up to his chest and a phone pressed to his ears as he rocks back-and-forth on the floor. Kurt's heart clenches when he notices how the young exchange student's hair is wet and clinging to his forehead, small droplets of water running down his face and staining his bright green shirt.

Kurt just _knows_ what's happened – it's happened to him more times than he can count, but especially now that it's nearing Christmas it's ever so clearer what's going on. Poor, little Rory has encountered his first swirly, and not just any old swirly, the jocks special super-mega-Christmas-swirly that's given to everybody that they deem losers out of the underclassmen. The only thing 'special' about it is how they don't just flush the toilet once, but _three _times – not allowing their victims the grace to come up for air in between every flush but holding them down and making them choke and sputter in the filthy toilet water as they gasp for air – making sure their victims are absolutely and irrecoverably drenched.

Kurt himself got one of those his freshman year when he was still trusting enough to believe them when they said they wanted to show him something, then still rather unaccustomed to the bullying he would suffer through in later years. The fallowing year Kurt had avoided all jocks like the plague – even those that had joined glee – in fear of another one of those horrifying and unsanitary meetings with the McKinley High toilets. They'd found him anyway, and had added an additional two flushes, a punishment for needing to chase him round the school for two days after his scheduled appointment. He'd gone home early after that, not able to finish his day still at that school – the memory of almost drowning in a toilet blurring up his sight and making him tremble all over.

He hadn't mentioned a thing about it to his father when asked.

To say Kurt had been overjoyed when missing that special Christmas tradition when transferring to Dalton his third year was like saying he was ecstatic when his father had given him the Navigator for his sixteenth – it was just a given.

And now Rory had suffered through that terrifying Christmas tradition that Kurt hated with a burning passion and wouldn't wish on even his worst enemy – Sebastian included.

Listening in on the younger boy's sobbing conversation with what appeared to be his mother Kurt leant his forehead against the wood, aching to just go in there and gather the young boy up close. He really wanted to soothe that sweet teen, make him know that it hadn't been his fault that the jocks did what they did, that he wasn't alone.

"No, mom! You don't get it, it was _my_ fault-" Kurt could hear Rory stop abruptly, and could hear him sigh tiredly before starting again. "No I know, you just... you go, I'll be fine. Yeah, I'm sure, Ava and Liam needs to sleep, it's not your fault. Yeah, yeah, okay. Talk to you later. Buy."

Looking once again through the small window Kurt watches as the young Irishman leans back against the wall and digs the heel of his hands against his eyes, seemingly willing the thick stream of tears to stop, to vanish.

Determined Kurt opens the door, smiling gently at Rory when he looks up, furiously brushing away the tears on his face. "Hi," he says, walking over to the younger teen and sitting down beside him, bumping his shoulder with his own. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Rory tries, fruitlessly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know," Kurt mumbles tiredly. "Maybe because the jocks fooled you into the bathrooms, giving you their holiday swirly special?"

"You know about that?" Rory asks him chocked, then continues suspiciously, frowning. "How long did you listen in on me?"

"Not long," Kurt answers honestly. "It's just easy to recognize the signs when you've worn them yourself." When Rory looks at him he nods, holding up two fingers. "They suck, I know."

"I just feel like I should've known."

"Everyone does the first time," Kurt tells him, "but it's not your fault, it's theirs."

Rory sits there quietly, looking down at his knees. "Sometimes I think I should go home. I have friends there at least."

The confession hurts, because _of course_ Rory has friends here, of course he does. "You have friends here too."

"No, I don't," Rory says, shaking his head. "You guys in glee are the only people I talk to here, and none of you are my friends, not really."

"Hey, hey! Listen to me," Kurt pleads, turning Rory's face back towards his own, stroking that soft cheek slowly. "We are all your friends, okay? Every single one of us in Glee club." The sad boy begins to interrupt, but Kurt won't let him. "No, it's true. Deep down you know that. Didn't Finn bring you to this club in the first place? Didn't Artie offer to help you with your math when he found out you were struggling with it? Didn't you and Mercedes spend almost an hour talking last week about your little siblings? And you know Noah will go all caveman when he finds out what those Neanderthals did to you."

Rory giggles quietly, stroking away a stray tear from the corner of his eye, smiling as he nods. "True."

"I'm right, and you know it," Kurt says, smiling at the young boy. "With us you'll never have to be alone, okay?"

Kurt watches as the still damp boy nods, those sad, pale gray eyes boring into his own. Before he knows it there are a soft pair of lips crashing against his own, but gently so. At first he kisses back on instinct, even going so far to twining his fingers into those soft locks before realizing what's happening. Then he breaks away, not saying a word, only staring at Rory with wide opened eyes as he pants.

And Rory, he looks so small, so unsure, yet so hopeful and determined. Needing. And Kurt can't help but glance down at those reddened lips, licking his own as heat surges through his body.

The second time their lips meet it's sweeter; less hurried and both of them leisurely exploring the other's eager mouths. Kurt cups the sweet boy's cheek, drawing him ever so closer, and he can feel Rory's arms twining around his own waist, nails venturing across his lower back. He hisses feeling them scrape over his spine, but does not part his lips from Rory's soft ones.

This time it's Rory pulling back, both of them drawing in deep gulps of air as they rest their foreheads together, Kurt still caressing the soft skin beneath his palm. Both of their eyes are closed, their eyelashes tickling against the other one's face, but neither of them mind the faint sensations.

Breathing slowly together Kurt can eventually feel how Rory's nose brush against his own, before his lips are claimed once more. Twice more. Thrice more. They trade kisses over and over; gentle pecks and soft, slow meetings of lips and tongues.

Before long Kurt can safely say he knows more about that delectable mouth than he doesn't; every crevice and hidden spot of Rory's mouth has been searched closely, just as his own mouth has been explored extensively by the young Irishman.

Then there's hands roving across his chest; slow, gentle touches that leaves him wanting more. But he needs to know if Rory wants it as well.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks the boy when they catch their breath in between sweet kisses. "It's okay to say no."

"Yes," Rory breathes, hands not stopping their movements for a second. "Want to feel close."

"We can do that in other ways," Kurt explains softly, breath stuttering when fingers catch over one of his nipples. "We can keep kissing, or we can snuggle, or something else – I don't know. But you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"But I do want to!" Rory exclaims, gripping his thin waist strongly, and Kurt has to grab a hold of those surprisingly strong arms to keep from shivering. "And besides," he continues at a much more sedated pace, "it's not like I've never thought about it. Being with a boy I mean. Being with- It's not like I haven't thought about it."

Kurt watches as the young exchange student blushes, avoiding Kurt's gaze. And Kurt understands what went unsaid. What Rory was about to say. What he meant.

'Being with _you_.'

The thought that this sweet, innocent boy has thought about him – wants to be with him – is alluring, arousing. And while it doesn't quell every hesitating thought in his mind, it eases his worry to the extent that he can reclaim those luscious lips in yet another kiss – this time far hungrier than any other time they've kissed so far.

Kurt lets his hands fall from their hold on Rory's face and neck, down to the lapels of his shirt, clasping around the first button, silently asking for permission. The slightly taller boy nods, and with slow and measured motions Kurt begins unbuttoning the shirt, soon sliding it off the other teen's shoulders.

Rory is positively stunning; the short glimpse Kurt gets of that pale chest before Rory dives in for another soaring kiss is enough to make Kurt certain of that fact. Faint traces of muscles lure beneath that skin, and his swollen, bright pink nipples seem ridiculously delicious. Kurt _really_ wants to lick them.

"So you've thought about this, huh?" Kurt asks when he breaks away to remove his sweater – Rory had already removed the vest going on top, though Kurt can't remember when, or how. He watches Rory blush, an adorable shade of pink that so impossibly cute.

"You caught that, huh?" Rory asks embarrassed, kneading the hair at the back of his neck.

"Yes," Kurt smiles, leaning forward and kissing the red cheek. "So what do you want?"

"Can I- can I-" Rory struggles, gesturing with his hands, not getting the words out.

"Can you what?" Kurt grins lightly, teasingly.

"Blow you?" He almost doesn't understand the words, the thick Irish accent coupled with the murmured tone of the words making them almost imperceptible.

But only _almost_, though.

"Are you sure?" Kurt asks, hands on his own belt, ready to unbuckle it with nimble, eager fingers.

"Erm, yeah," Rory nods, staring at those hands.

"Okay, then."

So it isn't long until Kurt is left in only his underwear; shirt and pants pooling beside him on the floor. Standing up he drags one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs forward, sitting down on it before the sweet teen. "It'll be easier this way," he explains when Rory shoots him questioning glances.

Rory seem to accept it easily enough, but the truth is that Kurt just want to be able to watch this more easily; wants to be able to card his fingers through those thick, curling locks – perhaps tug them at times – as he's being sucked.

Helping the teen to pull the underwear down Kurt guides the inexperienced boy with encouraging words and hands, showing what to do. Informing him to cover his teeth, to not try and take to much – don't want the innocent teen to choke, now do we? – and to just take it at an comfortable pace.

The feeling of that lascivious mouth covering him, taking him in, is more than Kurt had bargained for. Sure Rory is tentative, getting used to these strange, new feelings of it, but it's already _so_ good – and he hasn't even done anything yet! That heat is just so warm, so wet, so gorgeous, and having Rory suckle around his leaking head is positively amazing.

Petting that impossibly soft hair Kurt looks down, watching as Rory licks at him with his eyes shut. Watches as small tremors passes through that kneeling body, watches those big hands resting on his own thighs, gently kneading them as he laps and sucks.

At a particular eager suck Kurt throws his head back, groaning as he digs his fingers into Rory's hair. Tugging he hears Rory as well give out a moan of his own, muffled around the thick length in his mouth. Tugging once more Rory cries out again, and again, and again, and the vibrations those noises make are simply wonderful.

It isn't long before he's aching to come, but he also doesn't want to come before the young boy either, so he pushes Rory off and away, ignoring the indignant whines it produces. Instead he only directs Rory to remove his own pants, and then has him straddling Kurt's lap, sitting down.

Catching those gorgeous lips once again Kurt starts rubbing across the hard length tenting the mint green boxers, caressing it and listening to Rory's subtle moans. He can feel the wet spot covering the fabric, shivers running through his spine understanding how _hot_ Rory had been for this, and rubs more insistently across that particular patch, drawing more delicious noises out of the boy on his lap.

Finding Rory's hand with his own Kurt show him where he wants it the most, and as he lets his own hand travel beneath the only garment remaining on their bodies Kurt can feel fingers curling around him, stroking him. Finding Rory's own member Kurt sets up a slow pace, pumping that length as he continues kissing it's owner.

It doesn't take Rory long to come; shuddering above him and crying out lowly, shooting sticky ropes of cum into his underwear and over Kurt's hand. Kurt is quick to fallow himself – watching Rory's adorable yet sexy face come enough to do him over, and he spurts all over his own chest.

They kiss more as they come down, lazy movements of their lips as they just revel in being so close to somebody. At one point Kurt sucks a small mark against Rory's collarbone, and the young Irishman counters with bruising his neck.

Luckily it's almost Christmas, and cold as hell. Wearing scarves is in no way inconspicuous.

"So," Rory begins eventually, looking anywhere but at Kurt, and Kurt watches on, amused. One would think embarrassment went out the window after having sex, but apparently not. "Think we might do this again sometime?"

"Oh honey," Kurt coos, and chuckles when Rory's head fall. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that. I just thought it was obvious this was _definitely _happening again. Not until we've gone on a date though, that would just be poor etiquette."

Looking up at him with wet eyes Rory stutters out his next words, "Are you sure?"

Only nodding Kurt hugs the boy closer, reminding himself that Rory is still oh so vulnerable from that meeting with the jocks earlier. He will have to take things carefully with the insecure teen, but from the looks of things, it will be _so _worth it.

_So _worth it.


	18. Artie

**Pairing: Kurt/Artie.**

**Prompt: Artie has a lot of pent up sexual frustration because his love life isn't going quite smoothly and nobody seems to want him. Thankfully, Kurt is going through the same thing.**

**Words: 2659**

**Kinks: Handjob, fingering, anal, multiple orgasms.**

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><p>After several years of watching his fellow classmates cozying up more and more the closer they got to the holidays Kurt once again found himself on his own as they drew nearer to Christmas. With no boyfriend, not even one waiting for him on the horizon, Kurt was doomed to spend yet another year alone.<p>

Well, _mostly_ alone. This year one particular Artie Abrams had ventured to talk to him, offering him a deal of sorts. As they were pretty much the only two people at that school finding themselves without a significant other for the holidays – at least the only two _missing_ the lack of significant others in their life; there were a few students reveling in their single lives, or simply not caring about it – Artie had suggested they should get together and find a release for all of their... frustrations.

Which in lack of better terms were just a way of labeling them as fuck-buddies.

But Kurt had accepted, and gladly so too. Sure, a boyfriend would be nice and all; someone to take on dates and sweet little outings, but the truth was that the thing he lacked the most at the moment was purely the physical stuff. He wanted somebody to kiss, he wanted somebody to hug – and yeah, being a healthy teenage boy Kurt wanted somebody to fuck. So sure, he agreed to Artie's proposition, figuring it was one way of getting all of his pent up sexual fantasies to come true.

Artie, he was- he was a nice boy. Not Kurt's usual type; that was usually claimed by the tall and big boys around the school, commonly known as the 'jocks', but he was cute enough. He certainly was kind and funny, and there were far worse ways for Kurt to give up his virginity to one of his closest friends.

That wasn't to say things weren't awkward as they sat next to each other against the headboard on Artie's bed, the house being to themselves for a few hours. No, things were _most definitely_ awkward. Kurt didn't know how to start this – whatever _this_ was – and Artie didn't seem to keen to initiate things between them either. Instead they merely sat there, twiddling their thumbs and not sparing one glance for the other.

"So..." Kurt starts lamely, clasping his hands and looking down at his lap – he really has no idea what to say. So he stays silent, looking up at the wall before him. From the corner of his eye he can see the younger teen moving, shifting slightly as he settles himself further down against the solid board behind them.

"So..." Artie repeats, and when Kurt turns his head the paraplegic boy is already looking back at him, grinning widely. Safe to say the weird mood between them is broken when they both fall into fits of giggles.

"Shouldn't be this weird, should it?" Kurt asks, wiping a stray tear away from his eye. "It's just sex, right?"

"Just sex," Artie agrees. "And hell if I know, I thought asking _you_ of all people would make it easy."

"Yeah?" Kurt asks, raising one eyebrow. "How so?"

"We're friends. We're comfortable around each other," Artie shrugs, then bumps their shoulders together with a smile. "I thought it ought to make it less awkward than if we weren't. Guess I was kinda wrong about that though."

"Yeah, well," Kurt smiles, "that doesn't mean it's gonna stay weird." Cupping Artie's strong jaw Kurt kisses him, their lips moving slowly against each other's. "Still weird?" Kurt breathes, going in for another gentle kiss.

"Nah," Artie replies, his hands moving up to hold Kurt's cheeks as he tilts the countertenor's head, making their lips mold together closer. "Definitely not weird."

"Uhrg," Kurt groans when the other teen begins nipping at his jaw, and he allows his fingers to clench into the checkered fabric of Artie's sweater-vest. It's hideous, it doesn't matter if that garment was to be lost forever.

Feeling those lips move down over his throat Kurt's spine shivers feeling the short stubble of Artie's skin fallowing their movement. When he feels teeth biting down Kurt positively howls, the pressure against his pulse so delicious.

"So how do you want to do this?" Kurt wonders as he feels the other boy marking him up.

"Thought I would get to fuck you first," Artie mumbles against his skin, "and when I come you'll get to fuck me."

Baffled, Kurt pulls back, staring into Artie's darkened, blue eyes. "You'd do that? Let me fuck you?" Most guys wouldn't – well, most _straight_ guys wouldn't – and knowing that this boy is willing to let him confuses him. "Why?"

"Figured it was only fair," Artie shrugs off with a smile. "Now, come back and kiss me dammit."

Smiling, Kurt does just that; slipping his tongue past Artie's lip and curling it around the other teens, drawing it back into his own. And now that he knows _exactly_ what's looming in his impending future Kurt is eager to get this show on the road, his hands quick to find the hem of Artie's atrocious shirt and getting it out of the way.

Article after article is removed, hungry kisses shared between every little piece of garment that's tossed away, and before long they're sitting there stark naked, hands clasping at the other one's flesh. Kurt is panting when he breaks away to look at Artie, those blue eyes almost completely blackened by now, and he reaches for the bottle of lube on the nightstand.

Straddling the younger boy Kurt coats his own fingers, and letting the bottle fall into the bedding somewhere he circles his slicked fingers around his own rim, back arching when Artie latches on to one of his rosy nipples. The sharp but delicious pain when Artie bites the little nub is enough to make Kurt push in the first finger with a soft gasp.

Familiar with stretching himself like this – owner as he is of a few select toys back home – Kurt lets his hips buck back into the intrusion. He soon adds the second finger, and not long after that the third, really feeling the stretch of it when he does. Artie isn't overtly big, but it still seems like a good idea to use the three fingers.

"So, how do you want to do this?" Kurt questions as he once again picks up the lube, slathering it onto Artie's condom covered dick. "I could ride you?"

"Actually, I was thinking..." Artie drawls, throwing his head back when Kurt flicks his wrist over the head of his cock. Kurt really doesn't want to stop touching the boy like this, but it might be a good idea to if he ever wants to have that in him. "You could lie on your stomach, and then I could lie on top of you? If you're okay with that, I mean. I'll probably lean most of my weight on you if we do that."

Kurt hadn't really thought of that, but now that the idea is out there it seems like a good plan. Not only will his muscles not be horribly sore later when he'll get to fuck Artie himself, but like this the paraplegic boy will also be allowed to feel like he's the one on top, doing all of the work himself, giving him some pride despite not having the use of his legs. "Sounds good."

Actually getting in position though is a bit of work. Sharp elbows and knees bump into the other, and they laugh a few times when they knock into each other, but when at last Artie lies draped over Kurt it's all good. Unlike what Artie had felt Kurt truly enjoyed having the other teen pushing him down against the bedding, it was like being trapped in a cocoon of safety. When Kurt first feel himself getting filled he bites into the pillow below him, eyebrows scrunching up in slight pain. Mostly it just feel good though.

Giving the go ahead when he feels adjusted to the new stretch Kurt whines when he feels Artie begin to leave him, but it's not long before he has that cock buried inside his ass again. The thrusts into his body are shallow, not pulling anywhere out anywhere near so far that Kurt has to be worried about him slipping out. Instead he only worries about coming before Artie is finished, because if it is one thing he wants it's to come while being inside that boy himself – and with Artie pounding him so gloriously, occasionally hitting his prostate dead on, it's an actual concern.

Artie seems to have a good time though, if the filthy words and sounds spewing out of his mouth is any indication. Kurt can hear himself being called everything from 'a beautiful little slut' to 'like that, huh? Such a whore, so hungry for cock', but honestly? He kind of likes it; hearing Artie utter them with such passion against his skin is sort of turning him on, especially so when it sounds more like compliments than insults.

And as a result of Artie's dirty mouth Kurt feels himself letting go, his own stream of noises escaping from his throat. It isn't anywhere near as filthy as Artie's but his own grunts and moans are in no way chaste.

Despite not being particularly active himself besides constantly moaning as Artie pushes inside him Kurt can feel sweat pooling in the dip of his spine, making the slide between their pressed together bodies easier, slicker, dirtier.

When he feels Artie's rhythm begin to stutter and grow more and more frantic he knows that the other boy is close, so clenching his hole around him a few times he hears Artie growl out his release, biting into Kurt's shoulder. Coming deep inside Kurt he releases into the rubber, hips still stuttering against that supple ass.

Kurt gives the spent teen a few minutes to calm down from his orgasm, but when his own burning ache start to get the best of him he finally coaxes Artie into rolling over, and settles himself between those limp legs, and discards the used condom. Placing a soft pillow under Artie's hips Kurt palms those sweet, pale thighs, stroking the coarse hair there, moaning lowly. Looming over Artie he finds the discarded bottle of lube, mouthing over Artie's exposed throat as he slicks his fingers up once again. Soon he skirts his fingertips down the crease of his ass, and slowly pushes his finger inside the tired teen, drawing small moans out of the over-sensitive boy as he stretches him.

He's more careful with Artie than he was with himself, knowing Artie has most likely never had anything penetrate him like this. He's also making sure to avoid Artie's prostate, all too familiar himself with how painful it can be to have it stimulated just minutes after coming.

Eventually though that first digit becomes two, and those two become three. Before long Artie is back from his drowsy haze, reaching down to stroke his own spent cock, and before Kurt's eyes it fills up once more. He's sort of hungry for tasting that himself; traces of cum still lingering on that shaft withstanding, but maybe for another time, if he's allowed.

Instead he reaches for another condom when Artie gives him the go ahead, rolling it onto himself and lubing himself up, then it isn't long at all before he's slowly burying himself into that tight heat.

It's better than he'd thought it would be, and he's only halfway in there. The muscles contracting around him, the warmth, the slickness... Definitely better than he'd thought it would be.

Finding Artie's mouth with his own when he's finally lodged deep inside he stills, kissing the other teen ravenously as he waits. Their lips slant together, sloppy tongues delving against one another, teeth clashing together – all in all, it's marvelous.

When Artie begins pawing all over Kurt's lower back and the round globes of his ass he takes it as a sign to continue – which it is – and he draws his hips back before pumping them forward. He's taking his time, his pace slow, getting a feeling of things before he gradually increases his speed. Experimenting with angles he searches for that little bundle of nerves, trying to read Artie and see if he's found it. When at last one of the shorter boy's breaths hitch Kurt keeps going for that small spot, drawing even more noises out of that wicked mouth.

And when Artie does ask what that thing is he patiently answers that it's 'the most awesome thing ever', and leaves it at that, going in for another, short kiss.

They can't really kiss like this, not when Kurt is fucking himself in like this, instead their lips slide against one another, their breaths mixing as they moan. At one time he licks a small bead of sweat away from Artie's cheek, purring at the salty taste, and instantly pushes himself in harder.

Sitting himself up more Kurt curls his fingers around Artie, stroking him in time with his own thrusts, willing him to come soon. He is not willing to leave Artie hanging like that, and with his own orgasm rapidly approaching it seems like the right thing to do.

Artie's own hand grab around Kurt's, guiding and helping as he shows what he likes, and as the two of them stroke him together Artie once again comes, splattering cum all over their joined hands and his pale stomach.

The thing that finally drives Kurt over is a mixture between feeling those muscles clamp around him like a vice and tasting the cum that's dripping between his fingers, cleaning them, and with a few final thrusts Kurt drives himself in deep, coming in thick spurts. If there's one advantage to waiting as long as he has to finally come it's the stars appearing before his eyes when he does, and he's not sure if it's the long wait or the involvement of another person, but this is easily the hardest he's come – ever.

Afterward they just lie there side by side, their racing hearts calming along with their panting breaths. And when Artie offer Kurt to snuggle closer he gladly accepts, burrowing himself down close against his friends neck.

"Think we could do this thing again?" he asks the younger teen tentatively, not sure if he's over-stepping or something. For all Kurt knows this was a one time thing, and he has just ruined everything between them.

"Definitely," Artie replies, pressing a faint kiss against the top of Kurt's sweat-damp hair, and that's that. After those words nothing more needs to be said, for everything already has.

Kurt feels safe with continuing this deal of theirs, confident that it won't hurt them in the long run. Sure, Kurt is gay, but he hasn't found himself romantically interested in Artie once during the time he's known him, and he's feeling certain that he won't after this new development. And Artie is straight – though he's open enough to experiment – so he knows the odds of Artie getting too deep is slim to none.

If anything this new side between them is only going to aid their friendship, and Kurt feels like that is a good thing. It's been a while since Kurt had a close _male_ friend who wasn't his dad.

So inching himself even closer still to his friend Kurt sighs happily, and lets himself drift off into a short nap. The loneliness of Christmas may return in a few hours, but here? In Artie's strong arms? Here he's safe, and for once not feeling just as alone as usual.


	19. Cody

**Pairing: Kurt/Cody.**

**Prompt: Kurt is desperate for Cody's dick. Desperate bottom!Kurt**

**Words: 3319**

**Kinks: Fingering, bondage, oral, anal, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, sorta Dommy!Kurt**

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><p>It hadn't taken Kurt long to understand that something strange was up with their guest; one too many invasive questions about their belongings coupled with those exploring eyes had him knowing within minutes. And once the hoax was up he at once cut down on the drinking; luckily he hadn't even finished his first one by that point.<p>

But the thing was that this impending burglar was after all extremely hot with all of his glorious muscles on display, and Kurt was horny, to put it simply. He did not to want this piece of eye-candy to leave just yet.

So, instead he quickly made up a plan as this thief spoke to his girls – a plan of seducing this dishonest stranger and taking him to his bed for the night. The whole night, so he wouldn't get a chance of robbing them blind.

It all seemed so easy, too. Kurt had seen the small glances Cody had thrown his way, the way those eyes roved across his ass and legs.

It would almost be too easy.

So, spending the rest of the evening pretending to drink and acting like he's getting drunker and drunker Kurt keeps a close eye on their mystery guest, happy to note that nothing about his own behavior seems amiss to the others. And all in all Kurt does have a rather swell time dancing and singing and bouncing quarters off their personal Santa's abs. That little unplanned make out session with the half-naked man wasn't that bad either, and it did reinforce the other's conviction that he was just as drunk as the rest of them, if not more.

It was a good thing Kurt was dabbling in acting, this little performance of his was apparently all too convincing.

Then Rachel and Santana bowed themselves out, crashing into their beds and snoring loudly before their heads even hit the pillows. It was time.

Turning to their hot guest Kurt stroked his palm up the older man's displayed abs, purring happily at the feeling of strong muscles twitching beneath his touch, and showed Cody the way to his own bedroom. He didn't bother with closing the partition; God knows it was in no way sufficient at keeping noise in, and Kurt doubted the two girls would wake from their drunken sleep – he had seen how much they'd been drinking that night, they were gonna stay out for hours.

Pushing Cody to sit on the bed Kurt stepped up between his parted legs, bending himself down and connecting their mouths for the second time that night, plundering that delicious mouth for all he was worth. Dragging his fingers through the other man's hair, mussing it up effectively, Kurt felt the buttons on his shirt open, soon leaving the fabric hanging from his shoulders.

Breaking away Kurt tugged the shirt away, leaving it on the floor as Cody began on his pants, which soon lay on the ground as well. With the handsome man groping and squeezing his butt through the thin underwear Kurt climbed up and straddled Cody's thighs.

"You wanna fuck me?" he slurred out, not giving up his act just yet, and mewed when he felt fingers trace over his cotton-clad hole. God, did he want that inside.

"Oh, yes, yes," Cody mumbles against his throat, pushing his fingers ever closer, rubbing them fiercely against his rim. Kurt gasps, head bowing back as he grinds his ass back, desperate for more.

Then he's being lifted; Cody's strong arms easily picking him up and turning him around, settling him down on his hands and knees on the mattress. Kurt doesn't mind, being easily lifted like that makes hot tingles run through his body, and with Cody rubbing up against the cleft of his ass is heavenly.

"Ever tried bondage?" Cody asks him, thrusting his clad erection hard against Kurt's ass, eliciting a high moan. "'Cause I wanna tie those pretty hands of yours together, wanna dress you up in a cute pair of antlers and make you my little reindeer´for the night, make you so gorgeous before I ride your greedy little ass." And that's a little disturbing, Kurt figures, but doesn't say anything as the sexy Santa continues. "You'd look so good with some tinsel 'round your wrists and ankles. You'd like that, huh? Getting bound up with no where to go?"

But no, Kurt does _not _like that idea. Not only does it sound absolutely gross, but it definitely sounds like a good way for this naughty Santa to immobilize the one awake person in this apartment before going in for the kill and stealing everything they own. So no, Kurt definitely won't do whatever the hell this guy is planning.

Although, bondage does seem like a good idea. Strictly it doesn't require Kurt to be the one bound up, right?

So, turning around with as slow and seductive movements as he can master Kurt kneels up to clasp his lips together with the older man, luring the suspenders of Cody's shoulders and tricking him into laying down. As he fervently kisses the hunk beneath him Kurt manages to tweak the strap around one of the holes in his wooden bed frame, then ties it around Cody's wrist, trapping him to the bed.

He grins as he leans back, proud of his handiwork as the gorgeous man beneath him flex his arms and confusedly tries to free them. Running his palms up and down that bare chest Kurt smiles at him, leaning down and flicking one rosy nipple with the tip of his tongue.

"So, I had a better idea," he grins, flashing all of his teeth as he does, and moves to straddle the man's thighs, hands fallowing him lower and caressing those twitching abs.

"I can see that," Cody smiles, bucking his hips up so his hard length buck up against Kurt. "But you should untie me boy so I can take care of you real good."

"Don't think so," Kurt replies teasingly, but rolls his eyes at this guys rather obvious attempts at gaining control of the situation. "I'm gonna have some fun. Then, when I'm done and if you're up for it, we'll do whatever you want. Deal?"

The man mulls it over for a few seconds, and all the while Kurt grinds himself down against that hidden length, small gasps and whimpers escaping his throat. "Sure kid, why not."

"Good," is all Kurt says, not mentioning the fact that he hasn't had sex in months now, and is about to go crazy for hours. Even if he were to stick to this deal Kurt is sure that Cody wouldn't be up to doing anything else when he'll finally feel finished.

So, anxious to finally have something other than his fingers or his toys filling him up Kurt is quick to remove this fraud's pants – and lo and behold, the Santa hasn't been wearing anything bar those pants. Finding that Cody did indeed go commando, just like he'd gotten a small peek of earlier in the evening – though not trusting his eyes enough to believe them – Kurt feels his mouth grow wetter by the second, suddenly hungry for a taste of that.

And not does he only want that thick length in his mouth, he _really_ wants it pounding into him. Soon, preferably. If he could he would sit down on it immediately. But – seeing as how he plans to make this last all night – he figures he should take the time to prep himself. Not only will it buy him a great deal of time, but his ass might be quite a bit less sore by the time this is over.

So grudgingly he reaches for the half-full bottle of lube he keeps in his bedside table, and removes his grey patterned briefs in the process. Huddling over Cody he slicks up his fingers carefully, making sure everything is nice and wet, before taking his time and skirting them teasingly down his crack.

The whimpers he gives out into the crook of Cody's neck are sinful, desperate, and far from the what he usually sounds like in the bedroom. However, this is a special circumstance, for not only has it been such a long time since he'd last been with another human being in this way, but he also needs to act like his inhibitions are lowered, like he's absolutely hammered still. So many of the noises he produces are wholly fake, attempts at sounding drunker and needier than he is, but there are a few low grunts here and there that are solely his own.

Cody seems to like them at least, as he keeps rutting his dick up against the side of Kurt's thigh, smearing precome all over it. Kurt hasn't even gotten his first finger in yet, and already Cody is this impatient. Oh my, what a long night this will be for him.

Taking a small piece of pity on the struggling man Kurt centers his fingers around his clenching hole, feeling how it winks as he presses against it, and slowly does he sinks the first digit in. As always it feels so good having something inside, true power bottom as he is he loves being filled, even if it is something as small as a finger. Luckily Cody is nice and thick, and will stretch him out _soo_ good by the time he's finished. Kurt will most definitely be more than pleased over and over again before he sends Cody back home in the morning.

He pants as he enters the second finger, just as slowly as the first finger, his hips stuttering back as he's pressed them in as far as they can go, wiggling them around and reaping whines out of his throat. He's just so sensitive inside, and though he has no proof whatsoever about it, Kurt feels certain that he can manage to come just by someone fucking his hole – _without_ hitting his prostate a single time. He just loves and adores the sensations so god damned much.

The third finger he takes a little faster than the others, beginning to feel somewhat hungry and longing for Cody to just fill him up and take him. Cody certainly seems needy for it; thrashing underneath him like he is, mouth spewing out orders and pleas every which way about Kurt just 'hurrying the fuck up'. He feels contradicted about whether to comply with his wishes or make him beg and wait for it a long time. Kurt certainly wouldn't mind breaking out one of his toys and torture his lover for a while longer by making him watch Kurt take it like a pro.

In the end it's his desire for a warm cock that sets his decision, and finding a condom he's quick to get it open and rolling it down Cody's weeping length. Slathering it with some more lube Kurt hovers over it, tutting disapprovingly when Cody tries to buck up into his wide-open hole, and then sinks himself down at a sedate and unhurried pace, steadying himself with his palms flat over those twitching muscles spread out before him.

The stretch doesn't hurt, not in the least. It's a mere pleasant buzz, his nerves tingling in such an amazing way that he can't stay patient and just breath for a moment when that cock is as far in as it will go. Instead he's rushing to lift himself up, before falling back down, then up, down, up, down. In a matter of minutes he's bouncing himself furiously on that cock, sweat pooling in every dip and crook of his body as he exerts himself, riding that dick like he was born to do it.

He's fairly vocal as he feels that wonderful cock pound into him, and unlike those crappy noises he let out earlier these are all real, all true appreciations for how well Cody is splitting him apart. It's so hot as well, having Cody look up at him with all hunger in his eyes, knowing that there is no way for him to touch Kurt. He can see the way the older man strains his biceps, trying to lift those strong arms so he can touch him, how the thick suspenders holds him back from doing so so greatly.

It only makes Kurt ride him harder.

Beneath him he can feel Cody trying – and failing, mostly – to buck his hips up and bury himself deeper inside Kurt. The feeling of being so in control is intoxicating, and Kurt has to brace himself with his hands on Cody's chest just so he won't fall over from how hazy his mind is getting from all these different sensations. The change in angle is perfect as well, for now every time he pushes himself back he can feel that nice, thick cock jab right against his prostate, making him wail from the sheer pleasure.

Leaning himself closer still Kurt reaches up to kiss Cody fiercely; his tongue fucking in and out of that wet hole just like Cody is fucking his wanton and quivering ass. With one hand tight in Cody's short hair Kurt shakes as he feels himself beginning to come, his ass clasping like a vice around Cody as he spurts messily between their sweat-slick bodies. Inside him he can feel Cody come in waves, the feeling of it making Kurt shiver.

Just a few minutes of rest and then Kurt will continue, because now that his ass isn't so hungry for it he _really_ wants that dick in his mouth.

"Is it mine turn now?" Cody asks with a smirk, hinting at his bound up wrists. Kurt only smiles.

"Not quite yet."

* * *

><p>When the sunrise was beginning to show over the rooftops of the high buildings the fallowing morning Kurt finds himself so, <em>so <em>tired, yet he persistently laps up and down the now purple length before him. During the course of the night he has not only ridden Cody to two more orgasms, he had also helped the older man to turn sideways so he could fuck Kurt like that. And that wasn't even to mention the two blowjobs he had given. Luckily he had gotten two brief breaks as well when Cody had passed out from the extortion and the mind blowing orgasms Kurt kept providing for him, during which he had snuck into the kitchen and snacked on some of their more high-carb food, sure the calories would be burnt away by the time he could send Cody home.

Still, he was really longing for his friends to just wake up already so he could just kick Cody out of the door. There was no way in hell he was releasing their 'almost' thief while being the only one awake, because despite being completely exhausted Cody could very well overpower him and take any number of their more valuable stuff – and now that he had been gloriously fucked several times he really didn't find another use for this sexy man. Having six glorious orgasms fucked out of him was more than enough.

Cody was pleading above him, saying his dick was hurting and that he really needed to just come – rather obviously so, considering Kurt had just spent the last hour and a half just biding his time and teasing the man. In a way he kind of pitied the phony Santa, because he sure didn't want to experience being denied an orgasm after being strung along for hours. But honestly, could you come up with a better plan considering the circumstances?

Luckily – for them both – he could hear some rustling going on at the other side of the partition. If they weren't already up and awake Santana and Rachel would be so soon, and with that reassuring thought in mind Kurt happily dove in and swallowed that thick girth down his aching throat.

And no, he wasn't aching to have a cock in his mouth, he was aching _because_ he'd been having it in his throat for so long. Not only would he walk with a faint limp in his step over the next few days, but it would be a pain in the... ahem, ass, to swallow as well. He has to admit the leading up to that point had been quite fun though.

He can hear the sound of their coffee machine being turned on when he at last feels Cody start to come down his throat, a thin, watery substance, and satisfied Kurt swallows, letting every drip of it slide down his throat.

Standing up on his sleepy and wobbly legs Kurt walks over to the head of his bed, at last releasing the bound man. He can tell that Cody's wrist are raw and tender, a burning shade of red that looks rather painful. But hey, in comparison to having his apartment robbed, offering some cooling ointment to put on the wound is no worry.

* * *

><p>When he can finally close the sliding door behind their half-dressed guest Kurt slumps against the door, sighing deeply.<p>

"What, Slutelina?" Santana drawls out in his direction. "Some morning sexy times in the sheets wearing you out? Do you have any sort of stamina at all?"

God, Kurt only wishes that was true, because then it wouldn't have meant he'd stayed up for the last twenty-seven hours, and it _definitely_ wouldn't have meant his dick was so raw from coming time and again.

"Morning to you too Satan," he grumbles instead, staggering forward to one of the chairs.

"Be nice, Santana," Rachel chastises, pointing her finger without looking up from where she's buried against the crook of her elbow. "Not everybody can keep up as long as you do."

"Well, they should, it's more fun that way," she grins, before poking Rachel's hunched shoulder. "And how do _you_ know I take my sweet time, huh?"

"We live with partitions for walls," she points out sully.

"Hey!" Kurt cries, terrified at where this is going, and the rumors they are more than likely to start about him should he let them continue. "I do have stamina, alright? It's just tiring when you go at it all night, okay?"

"Phsst, like I'll believe that, Hummel," Santana scoffs. "Like Doris Day over here who can't handle alcohol to save her life pointed out, we have private partitions for walls, there's no way we could have missed you going at it like bunnies with McHubby all night."

"You wouldn't if you hadn't drunk your weight in alcohol last night," Kurt reminds her with his eyebrow raised.

"Fine, let's say you did in fact do the nasty 'all night'," Santana says disbelievingly, going so far as to using her fingers to make quotation marks during the all night part, "and I understand why you would, cause that man is _fine_, even I can feel a tingle in my lady parts. But why would you go at it for so long if you clearly can't take it?"

"_That_ Santana, is a story for another time," Kurt dismisses, so ready to just fall into a bed already. "Let me get some sleep and a few hours in the bath – don't argue, you two owe me, you'll understand later – and I'll explain. Okay?"

Not even waiting for the two of them to answer Kurt stands up and trying to conceal the small limp as much as possible he walks over to his little part of their loft.

He is asleep the second his head hit's the pillow, though not before making a mental note that he'll need to clean this bed out extensively before the next time he'll go to sleep.


	20. Elliot

**Pairing: Kurt/Elliot**

**Prompt: Kurt asks Elliott to give him guitar lessons. All the physical contact and focus on the fingers causes a lot of UST.**

**Words: 2492**

**Kinks: Handjobs, frotting.**

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><p>"So, remember a few months back when you promised me you would teach me how to play the guitar?" Kurt called, going into the kitchen and picking up the small plate of cookies he'd prepared earlier when he'd invited Elliot over. "I mean, you even made me buy a guitar an everything."<p>

"I remember," Elliot replies, sinking back into the soft cushions of the couch.

"Well, I was thinking of playing a little Christmas song or something for my dad when I went back for the holidays, and I _kinda_ need your help learning one." Kurt said lightly, trying to keep out the desperation in his voice. Truth was he had completely forgotten all about the upcoming Christmas this year, and all he had managed to score for his father were a lousy t-shirt and a pair of socks. Not exactly the most fun or adventurous gift, so he figured that learning a song to play for his father might make him forget about it. And yeah, gifts weren't anywhere near the most important part in the Hudmel household – it certainly hadn't been ever since what happened to Finn – but it felt wrong to come bearing something so crappy.

"And you _just_ thought about getting around this?" Elliot questioned softly, raising his eyebrows dubiously. "You forgot to buy a gift didn't you?"

Sometimes it really sucked having a friend who knew you so well.

"No, _technically_ I didn't forget it; I have a gift..." Kurt drawled out, before lowering his eyes and smiling faintly. "It just sucks is all."

"Ah," Elliot sighs understandingly, putting down the cookie he'd been nibbling on, brushing his hands to get rid of any stray crumbs. "Sure, I'll help. Any idea what song?"

"I was thinking... something that's easy enough for a beginner," Kurt smiles guiltily. "I just have a few days to learn it and all before my flight, and I sort of wanted to feel confident I wouldn't mess it up. Think you have something in that rock 'n' roll mind of yours?"

"Rock 'n' roll mind of..." Elliot mutters, obviously deep in though. It isn't even ten full seconds before Kurt can practically see the light bulb go off in his head. "So, I think I have an idea. It's pretty basic with a few nice tricks, and I think you'll be able to handle it, even being a rookie. You've heard of 'I'll be home for Christmas' right?" He waits for Kurt to answer with a curt nod before he continues, "well, I've been playing my own version of it for a few years now – it's kind of a mix of several other versions. No rock 'n' roll in there though. Sorry," he jokes. "Sounds good?"

"Sounds great," Kurt agrees, happy that Elliot is agreeing to this. He really should get the man an awesome birthday present when it comes up in a few weeks because of this. "When can we get started?"

"Oh, you wanted to- well, okay, if you have your guitar tuned and ready I think we could try it out now, I guess," Elliot acquaintances, and Kurt smiles, relieved, all of his teeth on display.

"Thank you," he breathes, standing up and finding the out of sight hidden guitar. "So how do we do this?" Kurt asks sitting down on the couch again.

"Well, first of all you'll have to sit on my other side Kurt," Elliot points out, "I need to reach the neck so I can show you where to place your fingers. Unless you _want_ me laying all over your lap every few seconds, that is," he teases. Kurt only sticks out his tongue, but moves. "Good, now put the guitar down."

"What?" Kurt asks, confused.

"We need to warm up your fingers. Stretch them if you will," Elliot explains, showing what to do by stretching his fingers back with his other hand. "You played piano, same principles."

So that's what they do for the next few minutes; Elliot showing what to do with Kurt copy-cating him. It's easy enough, but it sure wasn't what Kurt had expected.

But then the guitar is back in his hands, laying comfortable in his lap, and Elliot shows him where to put his fingers by guiding them to their proper place. "They need to rest... there, and then you can strum it. Okay, good, sorta, strum it like you mean it. Better. Now you have to move it like this. Strum. Good. Then like this. Good, a bit harder, but good. And now like this. Exellent. And that was the first half of the chorus, now we just do that over and over again until you know it. Then we move on to the rest. Okay? Good, now go back to the first part I showed you."

Only problem is, Kurt really can't remember how to place his fingers, because during all of that the only thing he'd been able to focus on was the wholly unexpected feeling of having his fingers held and guided earlier. It had been... oddly sensual. Spine tingling. Sexy.

And his mind was positively inappropriate at the moment.

"Sorry, I don't remember," Kurt apologizes. "Can you show me again, I promise to concentrate better this time." And he will, he tells himself so insistently.

"Okay, like this," Elliot shows patiently, moving just a tad closer, and God, Kurt is screwed. Because once again his fingers are being picked up and shown to their place, and all Kurt is able to focus on is how that touch to his fingers is feeling. How the fingers holding him are calloused and rough, how sure they feel directing his, and how good wouldn't it feel to have those fingers touching him somewhere else..?

Stop! Bad Kurt. Bad, bad Kurt! Elliot is his friend, he shouldn't be thinking like this, it's wrong on so many levels. But at the same time he can't quite help himself, not now when Elliot's heat seem to radiate against his own body. Not when his fingers are beings touched so softly. Not with that warm arm slung around his shoulder as he's being encouraged to strum the guitar again.

What would it feel like if those calloused fingertips ran along his wrists instead, if they gripped there tight, held him in place? How would it feel if they ran along his biceps, over his shoulders, his neck? Would he shiver? What would it feel like if they cupped his jaw...

When he turns to look at Elliot he is right there, just inches away from his own face, and for some reason Kurt can't help but quickly glance down at his mouth. He looks away and down at the guitar in his lap when he realizes what he's doing, hoping that the other man didn't notice.

"Arhm," he coughs awkwardly. "So, what's next?"

Elliot only chuckles – the vibrations from it feel so good against his body – and shows Kurt how to move his fingers again, causing another set of shivers to run up his spine. Kurt is certain he's blushing red by now, his body is so treacherous – he can certainly feel that the tip of his ears are burning up.

"You should probably sit up straighter though," Elliot says, drawing him out of his one-track-mind. "Come on, up..." And then fallows the most awkward minute in Kurt's life, for now Elliot is helping him move his entire body, showing him how to relax his muscles and just generally touching him all over. At one point Elliot had placed one of his palms on his stomach, meaning to help Kurt breathe, but all Kurt had been able to think about was the erection beginning to form in his tight pants and hoping Elliot wouldn't see.

What he does not notice is how Elliot's eyes slowly darkens as he directs Kurt, how they have darkened ever since first picking Kurt's long fingers up that first time. With his head bowed down, eyes closed tightly to try and get his bearings he doesn't see how Elliot let's his eyes trail over Kurt's body, how he grins when he notices the state of Kurt's pants. He doesn't see Elliot adjusting himself or how he grins mischievously.

He doesn't notice anything because in his mind he imagines those fingers splaying out across his bare skin instead, how they travel lower, lower, lower before they palm him properly. How the fingertips run up and down his weeping length, teasing him so greatly. He wonders how it would feel if they played with his balls, or his perineum, or lower still.

Kurt shivers pleasantly when fingers stroke lightly up his side, bringing him out of his fantasies, and how they're pressing lightly against his ribs, how they make goosebumps appear when they skim the skin of his neck and shoulder. He gasps when lips trails over his jaw, eyes opening wide as his fingers tighten around the guitar.

Is Elliot really..?

The answer to that question is obvious when the guitar is plucked from his lap and lain down on the table, hands now fallowing the inseam of his pants.

"Elliot," he breathes when they derail around his erect length, fingers instead drawing patterns into his other thigh. "Please."

"Please what?" Elliot mumbles, hitching himself closer and picking Kurt's hand up, sucking his fingers into his mouth.

Kurt swallows harshly feeling his fingers being virtually blown like that, and when he does answer it's more of a pathetic whine as he slumps against Elliot. "Please make me come," he begs brokenly, shuddering when that talented mouth hallows around his digits, tongue lapping around them. He is so hard it's torture being enclosed in the kind of pants he likes to wear, and with his one free hand he reaches down to release himself, only finding another hand intending to do the same.

When he springs free from both pants and underwear Kurt sighs relieved, his own fingers circling around the base of his dick and squeezing. It does help, not much, but it helps. At the very least it doesn't ache anymore, and he can concentrate on his fingers being worshiped by a magical mouth.

Eyes heavy lidded and blackened beyond recognition Kurt looks on as his fingers are being swallowed around, how they are being nibbled on, how they are being treated like gods. And if it isn't the hottest thing Kurt has seen. As the heat pools in his abdomen Kurt begins to softly, slowly stroke himself, just so he won't go crazy from how his length already pulses in his hand.

When Elliot at last releases him with a few last kitten-licks Kurt is panting heavily, eyes clouded from the needy haze he's been shoved fingers first into. Elliot is grinning deviously at him, tongue taking it's sweet time as he licks his dry lips.

Before Kurt knows it he's connected their lips hungrily, desperately shoving his tongue into that glorious mouth, tasting it as he feels hands cup his jaws. His own hands are clenching into the tight fabric of Elliot's fitted t-shirt, wrinkling it as he scrambles to straddle the older man's thighs.

Settled he moans into his friend's mouth, eyes rolling back as he grinds himself down against Elliot's impressive erection. Fuck, did that feel good. So he does it again, and again, and again. Driving his ass down Kurt groans time and time again against Elliot's delectable mouth, and with Elliot not being exactly quiet himself, Kurt is glad they have the apartment to themselves.

"Come on Elliot," Kurt spurs him on, bucking his hips obscenely. "Come on, touch me."

"Oh god, yes," Elliot breathes, one hand falling from Kurt's blushing face and fallowing the lines of his body down to where he wants it the most. He whines when those rough fingertips brush against him, and when they reach further down, holding his balls and rolling them between them Kurt outright cries out, humping the air lasciviously.

Feeling that hand at last curling around him Kurt is quick to paw his way down to Elliot's own cock, stroking it over the fabric for now as he adjust to the amazing feeling of having somebody touch him so splendidly. Grinding the heel of his hand down he can feel Elliot tremble against him, and that coupled with the hand on his cock is sending Kurt's mind whirling.

Fingers shaking Kurt gets the stupid fly open, pushing the flaps aside so he can reach into Elliot's underwear and get him out, the thick erection heavy in his hand. Leaning forward he latches his mouth onto the tanned neck before beginning to pump the fat length in his grip, wringing heading noises out of the man beneath him.

Letting his teeth dig lightly into the skin beneath him Kurt felt himself begin to shake violently, his orgasm sneaking up on him until he's ready to burst, and it's the thumb brushing quickly over his slit that sends him over. Thick, sticky ropes of milky-white cum gushes out of him, and he cries out soundlessly, hips thrusting furiously up into the tight fist holding him.

Elliot isn't faring much better; Kurt can feel how he's about to explode against his slack fingers, and gathering up the last ounces of strength he possesses from that mind-blowing orgasm Kurt tightens his fingers, stroking him a handful of times before he shoots as well. Kurt can feel his fingers being gushed with the sticky fluid, and lazily he raises the hand, offering it to Elliot as the man just keeps coming.

He can feel a tongue lick over his fingers a few times before he pulls it back to taste it himself. It's salty, yet sweet, and quite tasty over all. His dick twitches against his thigh as he shivers.

They're both absolutely covered in cum as they fall against one another, their limbs tangling together as they lean back against the couch, Kurt not moving an inch away from his comfortable position on Elliot's lap.

"Maybe we should find Dani to help you with the song," Elliot suggest breathlessly a few minutes later, Kurt still laying slumped against his now marred neck. "I'll try to teach you one more time, but I don't know if we'll make it past the first bar before one of us pounces the other."

"Eh, I could just buy him a CD," Kurt shrugs tiredly, already knowing that even trying to learn the guitar will be futile – all he'll be able to think about is Elliot's fingers dancing against his skin.

"Okay, sounds good."

"Yeah."

Things are quiet for a few minutes, the only noise in the apartment being their breathing.

"Up for round two?"

"Definitely."


	21. Tina

**Pairing: Kurt/Tina.**

**Prompt: So Kurt is feminine, doesn't mean he's gay. Kurt fucks Tina, dominant and manly and sexy as hell.**

**Words: 2769**

**Kinks: Fingering, frotting, PIV.**

**AN: Just so we're clear here: Like the prompt specifically says, in this story Kurt won't actually be gay like he has been for the rest. In my head he's bisexual for this, though there's no clear reference for it in the fallowing story. Now enjoy! :D**

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><p>Though Kurt hadn't imagined spending the entire day at the mall – shopping, eating at the new deli and being treated to a manicure – he sure hadn't complained when Tina had shown up at his door early that morning to drag him out and help her with her Christmas shopping. Not much anyway. But he couldn't fathom why anyone would postpone it to such an extent as the shops were <em>always<em> packed this time of year, but to each their own he figured.

"So, you're sure we got everything?" Kurt asked the goth-clad girl as they dragged the multitude of bags up the stairwell of the house to her room. "Even a present for that cousin you hate but have to buy something for anyway?"

Sometimes Kurt knew way too much about his friends.

"Yes, we got something for Clara," Tina sighs, hitching the slipping bags further up her arms. "And no, we didn't forget anybody... I think," she ends with a shrug that nearly ends with her dropping three of her bags, but she somehow manages to catch them before they crash against the floor. "Don't look at me like that!" she adds without looking over her shoulder, and Kurt chuckles because he _had _looked at her disapprovingly like she'd suspected he would.

So maybe his friends knew just as much about him as he knew about them. At least it evened things out.

"And you're sure you don't need my help to wrap all these up?" Kurt questioned the girl as she dumped the multitude of bags into a corner of her room, Kurt standing just feet inside the doorway and looking around. This was after all the first time he'd visited the girl, and the tasteful lilac of her walls threw off for a moment before he realized just how suiting it was for the girl and nodded approvingly of it. "I don't have much to do for once now that Carole's helping around back home."

"I'm sure Kurt," Tina laughed lightly. "Promise, mom swore she'd help me tonight, we'll be finished in a few hours tops."

"If you're sure then," Kurt shrugged. If she wanted to turn down his obvious decorating skills then that was her choice. Swinging the bags around so they rustled he continued, "so where do you want these?"

"Oh, just dump them in the corner with the others. I'll sort them out later," Tina waved off, walking to her desk and checking her make-up in the small mirror there.

Kurt did as she'd asked, and far more carefully than Tina had he set the bags down, careful of the few delicate glass-figurines Tina had purchased in this intimate, little second hand shop a few streets over from the mall. Turning around he walked back to the short Asian girl, pushing the hair away from her right shoulder and leaned down to nibble on her neck. "You do remember what you promised me when you asked me to help you today, right? Because I'm keen to collect, just so you know," he mumbled between little nips.

"Uh-huh, I remember," she breathed, eyes falling shut as she tilted her head to give him more access, something he took great advantage of. "And please do," she added with a faint whimper when he bit down on her skin.

Kurt grinned against her skin. This was gonna be fun.

Still latched onto her throat Kurt circled his arms around the slim girl, fingers finding the intricate set of hooks, buttons and zippers that would allow him to rip her out of her clothing. Tina was probably the only one he knew beside himself that owned such confusing items, and for once it was not meant as a compliment. His eager fingers were slipping, his motions hindered as he couldn't work out how to remove her shirt without looking.

Luckily she helped, more familiar as she was with that particular shirt, and soon enough the infuriating garment was dropped onto the floor, instead leaving her in just a simple white-ruffled shirt and her pleaded green skirt. But Kurt had had enough of the wait; dragging her out of her seat and pushing her up against the wall, claiming her soft lips roughly with his own, instantly fucking his tongue in and out of her wet cavern. He spread her legs apart, moving himself closer and grinding himself up against her clothed hip – allowing her the same courtesy by letting her grind herself against the thigh between her legs.

"Would you miss this shirt if I broke it?" Kurt asked her in between furious kisses, hands straying over the cotton just below her breasts.

He only received a whine, fallowed by a quick shake of her head when he once again pushed her against the wall, wringing the answer out of her. He grinned deviously, before finding the opening between two of the miniscule buttons with his fingers, at once beginning to rip the fabric apart, buttons flying all over.

Tina sure seemed to appreciate his assertiveness, as he could feel her tremble from the treatment, her knees almost failing her as he held her up with the knee between her spread legs.

Not bothering with removing the shirt all the way, instead letting it dangle from her shoulders Kurt dug his palms into her waist, holding her still as he kissed her even harder than before. Like he suspected it left her not only breathless but also a keening mess when he pulled back, and he quite liked how responsive the girl seemed to be – if the lone finger he let travel up her side was any indication.

Nuzzling his face against her neck Kurt trailed kisses along the parts of her skin that he could reach, his hand finding her supple breast, squeezing and playing with it over the bra. Licking his way down Kurt sucked a small mark against the flesh, reveling in the soft whines Tina panted out as he did.

He could feel her hands scrabbling over his back, her nails raking back and forth over his clothes as he bit down on the brownish nipple he'd uncovered. He grinned when she sagged against him, her arms holding on tightly around him as he massaged the nipple with his tongue and teeth and lips. The other breast wasn't left alone long either – soon being grasped and kneaded by his left hand as his other was wound around her body and holding the girl up.

It was when her hands began straying into his hair that he stood himself up, finding her hands with his own and raising them over her head, pressing them unceremoniously against the wall. "Don't touch the hair," he warned her, biting down gently behind her ear. He knew his hair would most likely be ruined by these activities anyway, but that was no reason to aggravate it.

This new position however brought some nice things along with it, because suddenly Tina seemed even more wanton and slutty than before. Being immobilized like this made her thrash like crazy, grinding her pelvis forward against his thigh in rough, erratic movements.

When he trailed one hand down and below her skirt to feel her quickly – the other still keeping a tight grip of her trembling wrists – he found her absolutely soaking wet. Her panties were positively drenched, and she had fluids rushing down her thighs in thin rivulets. The amount of juices gushing out of her was driving Kurt mad, and it wasn't many seconds until he had pushed the flimsy fabric of the panties aside and forced one of his fingers inside that wet heat.

She was tight, impossibly so, but the slick juices flowing around him made the slide easy. He could feel her clench around him, as if she was trying to draw him in further. Smirking Kurt relinquished to that wish, pushing that lone finger in to the hilt, before beginning a steady rhythm of fucking into her center.

It was growing difficult to hold her by the second; she was flailing madly all over without control, but Kurt only held her tighter, firmer, refusing to let her go.

"I- I'm going t-to," she stuttered out, still trying to buck herself down against the finger filling her. Kurt only added a second finger to the one already fucking her, his thumb trailing up to stroke her shy little clit, and he watched mischievously as she shook and came, slumping against the wall. That in no way meant Kurt was about to stop – feeling her clench so beautifully around him when she came was enticing, and he wanted to feel that around another part of his body before this was over.

Even after she had come and was still coming down from her orgasm Tina kept producing a steady flow of thick juices, coating Kurt's fingers and palm, some of it even running down his arm. "Look at that beautiful," Kurt marveled, fascinated with how wanton she seemed for him. "Such a little slut for me, aren't you? Can't stop gushing for even a second, you must really want me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours, huh? Don't worry about that though, there's no way I'm leaving before I've felt that slutty hole around me. And it won't be long until I'm inside it, can feel how you are just spreading open around my fingers. My, you must really be a little whore, can't even pretend to not want my cock. Your pussy is just aching for it, I can feel it."

As Kurt spoke he had added a third nimble finger, scissoring and stretching her apart, her fluids never ceasing to drip down from her now gaping little hole. Tina had bounced back as well, yet again bucking and thrashing between him and the wall, his words obviously getting to her and leaving her hot and bothered once again. It wasn't long before she managed to come again, mewling as she was onslaughted with yet another orgasm in such a short period of time.

Kurt only laughed, leaning down to tease her breasts once again with his teeth as he continued to pound her hole with his fingers. He even added a fourth when he felt she got sloppy around him, and she could certainly need it, he might not be some pornstar in the making, but he was definitely thicker than average.

Eventually though even fingering her like this and wringing orgasm after orgasm out of the responsive girl was getting boring, and Kurt decided to finally take her the way he wanted. Accompanied by her protesting whines Kurt withdrew his fingers from her, lifting his hand to her mouth to let her taste before he as well lapped some of her juices off of him. She was sweet, and had he been in the mood for it he wouldn't have minded going down on her, but perhaps for another time. Now all he really wanted was to fuck the younger girl until he came.

Circling the exhausted girl's waist Kurt lifted her up and carried her over to the bed, discarding her on it as he moved to get out of his sinfully tight pants.

"Roll over," he told her as he pulled his zipper down, sighing relieved when the pressure on his dick immediately lessened. "I want you on your hands and knees."

He could hear the rustle from her moving lazily over the bedding as he pushed the fabric down his calves and feet, his shoes already laying abandoned on the floor.

When he turned back to the black-haired girl he found her in the position he'd desired, her body splayed open before him in the middle of the bed.

However, that wasn't what he'd had planned.

Striding over Kurt grabbed hold of her thighs, pulling her back towards him by them, so that she was left kneeling more towards the edge of the mattress than the middle of it. "I want you right here," he told her in a dirty whisper, leaning over her bowed body as he squeezed her beautiful ass in his palms. "I wanna fuck you right here, like this, and make you fall apart from how hard I can – and will – pound you. Any problems with that?"

When the girl shook her head frantically Kurt leaned back with a filthy smile, finding the condom he'd brought with him and rolling it down his aching cock. There was no hesitation in his movements when he guided his length to her clenching hole, instantly burying himself inside, grunting softly at how splendidly she took him. She was like a glove around him; a wet, hot, perfect little glove, her walls squeezing around him when he moved to draw himself back out, her walls yielding when he thrust himself back inside.

"You don't want me to leave your wanton, little cunt, is that it?" Kurt asked her as he began thrusting himself into her at a quick pace. "Don't worry, you won't be left empty for long, you feel too fucking good for that."

The sound of skin slapping against skin was obscene; the wet slap, slap, slap being a result of sweat and her slick juices coating their hips and thighs when he pounded inside her, the sound egging him on to go even faster. The squelching from her pussy was equally filthy, and music to his ears, just like her soft cries and mewling moans.

"Take me so good Tina," Kurt praised her, listening as she whined and tipped her ass back, just begging him to take her even harder. "Yeah, your pussy is so good to me, taking everything I want to give it. So greedy..."

Leaning over her Kurt curled his hand around her shoulder, holding her as he pistoned himself in and out of her hold, his other hand finding her clit and pinching it roughly between his thumb and point finger, rolling it as he listened to her needy cries. She was thrashing again, close to coming for the fourth time that evening, and Kurt spurred her on – his strokes inside her going even deeper now that he was leaning over her, his fingers pleasuring her clit like never before. It wasn't until he bit down on her neck however that she finally came, and feeling a strange pressure on his dick Kurt pulled himself out, awed when he watched a thick stream of fluid gush out of her.

He made her squirt. Oh holy fuck...

Pulling the rubber of his cock Kurt began to furiously stroke himself, biting into his lower lip as he soon shot rope after rope of cum all over Tina's supple ass, coating it in his white essence. Breathing hard when nothing more came he leaned down over her fatigued body, dragging his dick all over the sticky marks he left on her, smearing them out even further.

Then he let go of his cock, scooting himself down on the bed over the almost sleeping girl, straddling her lower back. Lifting his hands he began massaging her back, feeling how relaxed she was under him as she kneaded her sweaty skin.

"Did I wear you out honey?" he asked her sweetly as she groaned happily from this different kind of treatment. "You were so good too, such a precious little cock-slut for me."

That made her whine brokenly. "Kuuurt! You can't say that, not if you're not gonna fuck me again!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he purred, leaning down to nuzzle her sweat-damp neck, hands still working her sides. "I'll be good now," he promised, nipping gently on her bruised skin. "Promise."

"Then stop making me wet, dammit," Tina sighed, burrowing her head back against the damp sheets.

"I'll try," he swore, swinging his leg over her body and laying beside her. "Wanna take a shower and watch a movie before I have to go home? I have some snacks in my bag that we can feast on."

"Sure," she agreed, slowly sitting up and wincing from how sore her body was feeling. "But we take separate showers. Don't think I can take another orgasm," she mumbled mock grudgingly, her smile not helping her.

"Fine," Kurt conceded. But he couldn't help but add teasingly, "though I was thinking of licking you out in there, but, your loss..."

Tina only moaned, throwing herself back into the bedding as Kurt laughed heartily.


	22. Puck

**Pairing: Kurt/Puck.**

**Prompt: A domestic future fic. Someone dressing up as Father Christmas.**

**Words: 3737**

**Kinks: Blowjob, handjob.**

**AN: So my google search told me Father Christmas is just another name for Santa Claus. Stupid Swede here, not familiar with the term, and should I still be misguided about the names I sincerely apologize.**

**But we're nearing the end! Just three chapters to go after this one! What am I ever going to do when I don't have more to write for this?! \Ö/**

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><p>Kurt laughed heartily when he entered the living room of his two story house late at night on the twenty-second. He would have expected the same sight had it just been two days later, but as it was it was merely hilarious.<p>

Standing before the twinkling and sparkling Christmas tree was a big, voluptuous _blob_ of red, doing something that seemed like yoga with the way it kept bending over.

"You do know Christmas isn't until the twenty-fifth, right?" Kurt asked his husband as he sat himself down on the armrest of the couch, eyes filled with mirth not leaving the Santa-clad man once. "If Micheal and Audrey comes down and finds you they'll know something's up. They are quite clever for their age."

"I'm practicing," Noah answered, bending down once again with his arm outstretched, as if he was placing something under the tree, and _oh._

Kurt snorted when he realized just _what _his husband of seven years now was doing. "Why are you placing imaginary gifts under the tree? And why are you wearing that costume? Surely you don't need it to 'practice'," Kurt wondered, using exaggerated air quotes as the corners of his lips tugged up into yet another smile. At least he wore the cotton one, Kurt figured, he would have loathed it if his gorgeous husband had dressed himself in the cheap, polyester one that Kurt detested and would have burnt given the chance. It had been Noah's fathers though, once upon a time, and Kurt couldn't bring himself to get rid of one of the few belongings his love still was in possession of that had once belonged to that man.

"I told you, I'm _practicing._ It's the twins first Christmas since they begun to get involved with the holiday – they even did their own wish lists and everything – and I just want things to be perfect." Puck sighed, stretching his back, even going as far as to place his palms on his sides and press himself into it. "And yeah, that involves testing this silly costume and putting fake boxes under the tree."

"Oh honey," Kurt giggled, standing up and embracing the thoughtful man. "That's so sweet. And idiotic." Making Noah turn around Kurt held onto his shoulders and looked into his golden brown eyes with a smile. "They're not even three, they think getting fruit loops instead of sandwiches for breakfast is perfect and magical. Somehow I doubt you going down here two nights in advance in a ridiculous outfit will make much of a difference to them come Christmas morning."

"But..."

"No. Uh-huh. Things will be perfect I tell you," Kurt told the slumping man, hitching the fake beard down so he could place a chaste kiss on the pouting lips beneath. "Don't you worry No-No," he murmured against his husbands lips, "absolutely perfect."

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><p>It had taken Noah a long time to believe him and calm down though.<p>

After many reassuring kisses and soothing words Kurt had pushed the fretting man down into the couch, soon climbing up on his lap and cuddling him as close as the pillows hidden beneath the costume would allow. There he had repeated everything he'd already told his husband several times, providing sweet kisses and strong, long hugs whenever Noah needed them.

"I never celebrated Christmas, babe," Noah had told him at one point, eyebrows furrowed, "but you did, and you have all these amazing stories from your childhood about it. I don't have any memories about my first Hanukkah's, or of my general childhood really. I want the twins to have these memories forever."

"You know most of my memories from my childhood aren't about these perfect things in life, right?" Kurt had told him back. "I always tell you about baking cookies with my mom, or about building a snowman with my dad. I can't remember saying any of those things went perfectly; mom and I usually burnt those cookies or started throwing flower at each other, and my dad and I made the most horrible snowmen ever to grace this earth. But we were _together_, had fun _together_, _that's_ what made it so special and memorable. Not the times things actually went off without a hitch, not what lay waiting beneath the tree – though I do remember something vaguely about sparkly shoes when I was three or four and that I absolutely loved until they broke minutes later. None of those mundane things stuck with me, just the unforgettable 'mistakes' we did."

Noah had smiled weakly at that, but had soon lapsed back into his previous tirade about how it still needed to be special, to which Kurt had sighed exasperatedly in response before grasping his husbands chin and pushing a furious kiss against his moving lips. Unrelenting when Noah moves to break away Kurt holds his cheek and jaw, tilting both of their faces so he can smash their lips closer, molding their lips together until his husband relents and responds.

God, does he knows his husband or what?

Raking his fingers up the taller man's cotton-clad arm, shoulder and neck, Kurt curls his fingers there and holds on for life as they continue to kiss passionately, only parting away for air once the urge to breathe becomes too great. And soon he realizes that the only thing lacking at the moment is feeling Noah as close as he wants to; those infernal, lumpy pillows hiding between them obscuring him from his husband.

Within seconds of his revelation Kurt has pressed his tongue past those red-bitten lips and climbed out of Noah's lap, briefly, just to get those infernal pillows out of his way so he could press himself closer, never once breaking their lips as he moves. The two pieces of bedding had landed somewhere on the floor behind him, but he was far too entranced by the sparks flying between himself and the gorgeous man beneath him to care. The quick glance he had gotten of the now curve-less body before climbing back onto his sexy husband certainly wasn't helping him calm down.

Even after knowing each other for over a decade Kurt continued to be surprised by his own desire for this man.

"You know," he murmured seductively against the taller man's swollen lips, his fingers searching beneath the red Santa hat and finding soft curls of black hair, "you do look kinda sexy in this thing. When you skip the pillows. And the beard, definitely without the beard."

"Hmm, I do?" Noah smiled, nuzzling his nose against Kurt's. "I thought you didn't have a roleplay kink. We did experiment with that cop thing once..."

"That was a mistake," Kurt agreed hotly. Then he shrugged, dragging his fingers over the red fabric. "But I don't know, you in this? Definitely a turn on. So what do you say – me... Santa... maybe a nice bed..."

He didn't get any further before there were hands groping all over his ass and he was lifted up into the air, Noah marching hastily through the house in his search for their room. From previous experiences Kurt knew he was in for a hell of a ride, and only slung his arms and legs around the other man, holding on for dear life as he was being carried through the numerous rooms.

* * *

><p>Soon his back is being pushed against their bedroom door, Noah pressing himself so close it momentarily takes Kurt's breath away. His heart is hammering wildly in his chest when the tanned man leans back, Kurt's eyes hazy with lust as he stares into the equally blackened irises looking back on him.<p>

Knowing that Noah is otherwise occupied by simply holding him up Kurt brings one hand down, searching hurriedly behind himself for the doorknob as Noah pulls him in for another searing kiss, licking into his mouth and making him shiver. His dense fingers scrambles over the wood, eager to just get inside the room already, and he cheers mutely when he finds the brass handle, twisting the door open clumsily.

"You've been a naughty boy this year, haven't you?" Noah whispers sultrily into his ear as he carries Kurt to their bed, yet all Kurt wants to do is laugh because of it. That was just so cheesy. He doesn't though, too occupied with the sensations crashing over him.

What he does do however is buck his hips forward, eyes dropping shut and moaning lowly when he drags their hard lengths together. Cheesy talk or not, his husband is hot and Kurt is aching for whatever Noah will give him.

"Definitely on the naughty list then," Noah grins, palms squeezing his ass roughly and dragging yet another moan out of him. Then Kurt can feel himself being discarded onto the bed, his chest heaving as he gazes up at the smirking man. "You should strip," the Santa-clad man suggests, placing one knee on the edge of the mattress, his eyes roving over Kurt's rumpled form. "'M gonna have fun with you."

The possibilities of _that_ promise is enough to have Kurt up and shedding his shirt with frantic fingers, teeth biting down on his lips to keep from whining when he just _couldn't_ get _that_ particular button open. Sighing happily once he did manage it Kurt got to work on his pants, dragging them down his long, pale legs as the shirt hung from his shoulders. Flicking both garments off the side of the bed Kurt lay back on the bed, only a thin, flimsy pair of briefs covering his straining erection.

"'Mm, look at you," Noah praises, crawling over and sitting down between his spread feet, hands stroking his calves reverently. "So beautiful after all of these years, so fucking pretty..."

Kurt looked on with lustful, glistening eyes as his husband, his lover, stroked his way up to Kurt's knees before retreating back and placing those calloused hands back on his own lap.

"Turn over," Noah demanded huskily, and Kurt could see him swallow harshly as he stared at his pelvis with hungry eyes.

Lips tugging into a small smile Kurt does as asked, flipping himself onto his stomach and relaxing into the mattress. Noah will take care of him. He always does so splendidly.

He can feel those same hands begin to trail over the arch of his feet, fingers tickling him as they travel upwards slowly, slowly. He squirms when they tickle the inside of his knees, and sighs breathily when they paint patterns to the inside of his trembling thighs.

Kurt remembers once telling his husband – then boyfriend – that he thought the touch of a fingertip was the sexiest thing he could imagine. Geez had he regretted that sentiment many times in the years fallowing that. His Noah had a weird fetish for making him lie there tormented for hours with just those fingertips touching him – he certainly hoped this wasn't one of those times.

He begins to wonder – or fear, really – that it was indeed one of those days when Noah lets his fingers stray even higher, swirling shapes all over his back and arms, but he sighs relieved when the stronger man grips his wrist and pushes them over his head against the headboard. Kurt can feel the bed dip on either side of his hips, and he shivers when there's cotton dragging lightly over his sensitive back.

"You look so gorgeous like this, you know?" Noah comments against his neck, his warm breath hitting Kurt's skin and making him tremble. "All spread out for me, willing to let me take whatever I want." Kurt gasps when there's teeth biting gently into his shoulder, nipping his skin carefully before licking over the faint marks soothingly. "You know what I want though?" Noah questions him, lips straying unhurriedly down his spine in the seconds fallowing.

The hands holding on to Kurt's soon fallow the same path; drawing identical heated lines down his arms and shoulders, before stroking down his sides and eventually landing on his hips, thumbs digging into the globes of his ass. Noah is still kissing over his spine, mouthing the spot where Kurt knows he has a couple of freckles littering his otherwise perfect marble skin.

"I- I don't know," Kurt grumbles out distractedly, knowing his husband won't continue unless he answers the question. "Wh-what do you want? I'd give you everything."

He can feel Noah smirk against his skin, the tug of those lips so clear against his hypersensitive skin. Suddenly there's hard pressure against his ass – fingers digging into his flesh as Noah rises himself back up to Kurt's face. "This ass," he tells Kurt, massaging the cheeks in emphasis. "I wanna taste it. Will you let me?"

Kurt nods hurriedly, twisting his face and arches his neck to place fervent, messy kisses against the parts of the taller man that he can reach, whining brokenly when Noah draws back from his reach.

His husband is far too good at breaking him into this needy little mess of want. Just a few carefully though-out words and a handful of touches and Kurt is gone, like always.

He will get back though. Soon.

Now he just enjoys himself, tilting his ass up higher when Noah squeezes his cheeks again, moaning when he feels fingers curl under the waistband of his briefs. Hands digging into the pillows beside him Kurt clenches his teeth together when an unsuspected bite to the dip of his spine comes, the sparks making him miss how his underwear are being pushed just below his cheeks, exposing him to his eager lover.

What fallows however is as clear as glass in his mind however; every little lick and nip to his cheeks registering in his brain, every little squeeze and exploring pinch making him buck back into the touch. There's teeth dragging over his skin, and there's nails raking red, somewhat painful marks onto his hips, both things he take notice of, but it's the nose nudging against his cleft that takes his breath away – especially so when it's fallowed by a wet tongue lapping over the same course. The warm breath falling on his crack unbearably hot and shooting sparks up his spine, much like the nails digging into his cheeks.

Feeling himself being spread apart by rough hands Kurt keens, tipping his hips back and up in offering. And he can tell it's much appreciated, the tongue instantly tracing his rim speaks volumes, even if it's owner is as silent as ever.

Kurt is not silent, not by a long shot. He loves, loves, _loves_ being rimmed, and mind already lost in pleasure just from the foreplay means he doesn't even _try_ to keep his noises in. There's no need to – he and Noah had this room soundproofed when the twins got old enough to sleep through an entire night. There's no reason for him to muffle his reactions, not when Noah loves him loud and eager.

Which is a good thing, because he's always been somewhat of a screamer. Tonight is no different; unabashed moans, keens, cries, wails and throaty groans are released with every little kitten-lick against his entrance, whines and whimpers falling from his lips whenever Noah breaks away for a single moment.

He knows, he _knows_ that the slurping sounds Noah is producing as he's messily worshiping his hole are unbearably hot and sexy to listen to, but he can't hear a single thing over the noise he's producing himself. Which is horrible, because he _adores_ those lascivious and lewd slurps, they always serve to make him positively crazy with lust – not that it's a problem at the moment, he's already been on that edge for what seems like decades.

Kurt can feel how he keeps opening up and contracting under Noah's attention, can feel how he's winking continuously as Noah laps over him. Saliva is pooling all over; he can feel it dribbling over his sac, can feel it squelching everywhere Noah is pressing against him – he can even feel a few droplets of it on his lower back, however it got there.

Torn between driving his leaking cock into the bedding beneath him or kneeling up to back himself onto that tongue that's _just teasing him_, Kurt is left in a sort of limbo, his hips merely stuttering in place until Noah takes a firm hold and decides for him – by pushing him down against the bed and keeping him there.

At least it meant he wouldn't have to decide between two impossible choices.

"Please, No-No, please!" he keens instead, knuckles whitening with how hard he's grasping the pillows beside him. "Fuck! Just- please, just fuck me with it! Fuck me with that gorgeous tongue! Take me- yes! Fuck, so good! C'mon, fuck me, please!" Kurt begs, wailing out his torment when Noah only laps down his crack and mouths his balls instead.

His husband is suck an ass sometimes.

"Don't be a fucking tease!" he admonishes with a grumbled 'fuck' when Noah won't listen to him. "Don't you wanna make me scream? Make me howl out from how good you're fucking me with that talented tongue? Just please Noah, come on, fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck- ah!" The tongue is piercing in deep; curling inside him and wringing all imaginable kinds of cries and noises out of him.

God, does he loves Noah's tongue!

"Yes! Fuck, right there! Fuck me just like that, No-No! Argh, so good," Kurt praised, thrashing wildly as Noah stabbed him time and again with that long tongue. Suddenly breathless, with arousal straining over every inch of his body Kurt feels himself being stretched open around that thick appendage; his muscles fluttering weakly around it and trying, trying, trying to squeeze and keep it in. But it's no use, he's too weak, and relents to being speared as Noah sees fit.

The first spark from having his prostate hit is enough to make Kurt come, a sudden wave of explosions firing through his body as he spurts load after load onto the bedding, voice screaming as he dazes out from the pleasure.

He comes to not a minute later, immediately turning over on his back and lifting his tired neck to watch his husband. Noah's absolutely soaked; face glistening with saliva and sweat and God knows what, eyes frantic and dark as he's rocking against his own palm quickly.

"Get over here," he rasps, already sore from the constant moaning he's done, knowing it will only get worse before this is over. "Wanna blow you," he tells his amazing husband, making grabby hands in the air for him.

Noah is quick to lean down for a kiss, their tongues tangling together for many long seconds as they share their noises of appreciation into the other's mouth. Kurt is latching his hands on to the taller man's pants, yanking them down to the middle of his husband's thighs, quick to find the pulsing length and taking it in his hand. He doesn't get more than a few strokes in however before Noah's breaking away, batting his hand away and crawling forward up the bed.

Soon Kurt finds himself inches away from a thick, purplish cock; his mouth watering obscenely just watching the length bobbing against that red cotton covering his lover's stomach. Entranced Kurt watches Noah as he curls his fingers around his own length, stroking it once, twice, before offering it to Kurt, tracing the head over Kurt's swollen lips. Kurt sticks his tongue out, tasting the beads of liquids falling from the tip, groaning from the familiar taste.

Opening his mouth Kurt is fed the thick girth inch by inch, his own hands pressing flat against Noah's ass and edging him even further once he stops and moves to pull back out. Kurt – in no way – want that length to disappear from his mouth; he's far too hungry for it, aching for it too much. He would grow hard again just from the taste if he was younger and hadn't come not even five minutes prior.

One hand straying downwards Kurt begins to knead the hanging balls he encounters, playing gently with them as Noah slowly starts to fuck his mouth. He knows this won't take long, not with how long the other man has already waited, but he is resolute to make the most of the time it does takes.

So, with the thumb and long-finger of his free hand Kurt spreads his husbands cheeks apart, point-finger finding and tracing the wrinkled, little rim hiding between them. It's dry and rough, but it does drive the point home, because not even ten seconds pass before Kurt can hear Noah begin to curse and warn him that he's coming – something Kurt already gathered from the sticky cum falling on his tongue.

Swallowing the load in his mouth, his tongue gently lapping the head still in his mouth, cleaning it before letting his softening husband pull out. Opening his eyes Kurt can see Noah watching him reverently. He only smiles in response, dragging the man down and kissing him, Noah shuddering from tasting himself on Kurt's tongue.

It's been a while since they've had sex quite this... rigorous, and raunchy, but all the better. It makes it more special.

"Santa costumes get you hot, huh?" Noah teases in between kisses, lips pulled into a huge grin. "Who would've thought?"

Rolling his eyes Kurt slaps his shoulder. "See if I will ever calm you down again," he grumbles, burrowing himself down against his husbands warm neck, the red cloth resting under his palm a constant mockery. "Oh, shut up," he mutters when he can feel Noah's grin split even wider.

"It's okay," Noah smiles, pulling him up and kissing him sweetly. "It's kinda cute, actually. Just as long as you won't run off with some Santa from the mall..." That earns the teasing man another slap, harsher this time. "Kidding, kidding..."

"Hmpf," Kurt huffs, nosing against Noah's cheek. "At least _I_ don't have a thing for Disney characters."

"Hey, Jasmine's hot!" Noah defends.

"I was actually talking about your crush on Aladdin, but fine."


	23. Karofsky

**Pairing: Kurt/Karofsky.**

**Prompt: Karofsky has come out to the Hockey team, they are all cool with it and happy that he came out, they can still slushie the glee kids for being in Glee. Karofsky has had all I want for christmas stuck in his head, so when Azimio asks him what he wants for christmas he decides on Kurt, under his christmas tree.**  
><strong>Azimio and the Hockey team kidnap Kurt from the mall, dress him in a costume. *bonus points for Christmas Fairy* stick him in a box. *would love to have Kurt point out he needs air holes or he will die in there* then gets wrapped up air holes kept clear. <strong>  
><strong>Kurt after the initial shock finds he is actually enjoying the whole thing. Must have sex under the Christmas tree in it somewhere. <strong>  
><strong>*Tinsel used to bind hands but no extreme bondage its Christmas.*<strong>

**Words: 4858**

**Kinks: Bondage, oral, intergluteal.**

**AN: Slight change from the prompt, but only one tiny detail: instead of kidnapping him from the mall they kidnap Kurt from his house. Sure, it's more horrifying and shit, but also made more sense for my idea. **

**Also, Dave never said anything absolutely, this was something the jocks figured out on their own. That's why he's also much more ****_human_****, not just jumping into the smut. Which there will be, I promise.**

**And by the way – Azimio: an absolute hell to make him sound even slightly like himself. I shudder from all of the shortened words and slang-words I needed to use to make him seem in character...**

**Sorry if anything feels rushed, much of this wasn't written before today, and I didn't have much time to write. Not beta-ed.**

* * *

><p>Being woken up by invasive hands grasping him all over at three o'clock in the morning was nothing short of terrifying; their masked faces making him panic and scream behind the hand covering his mouth. Vaguely hearing how they mumbled around him Kurt tried to count how many they were, but soon lost count when he figured he'd do a much more useful job trying to break away from their strong holds. His limbs flailing – or trying to – as they carried him out of his room, out of his house, and into the awful awaiting van.<p>

But that was two hours ago, and now that he was sitting among the dozen or so of rather familiar boys Kurt was far more annoyed and furious than afraid.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're up to?!" he screamed at the dark boy sitting before him on one of the locker rooms many wooden benches. "You can't just _kidnap_ someone out of their house, are you crazy?!"

"Oh, calm your tits Hummel!" Azimio shouted back, and Kurt humphed in return, staring angrily at the dark boy. "Good. Ya really think you'd come with if we just _asked_. Hell naw! You'd bitch 'n moan just like ya are right now! We just did what we had to do to get shit done."

"And why, pray tell, did you feel the need to abduct me out of my home in the beginning?" Kurt demanded, not fathoming in the least why they'd felt the need to kidnap him in the first place.

"Ya know K said he's gay when ya left for that Dayton school?" Azimio asked him in return, continuing when Kurt only raised an impatient eyebrow. That was old news, he'd heard about that not even minutes after it happened when Mercedes had called him to gossip. "Yeah, right. Forgot there's still losers in that club still even though the queen freak left. But yeah, he came out, and like, no biggie, he's still cool and all. But now we've been tryna figure out what stuff he wants for Christmas. Ya know what he told us?" Kurt shook his head, Azimio's terrible language quickly making him develop a searing headache trying to deconstruct it into something understandable. "Nothin'. Absolutely nothin'. He just hummed that stupid Carey shit and totally blew us off! Good thing Rashad remembered that K used to watch ya a lot a few months back."

"So what?" Kurt interrupted, thinking he might have got the gist of what Azimio was trying to say, but not sure in the least. His curiosity was undoubtedly peaked though. "You decided to kidnap because... what? Because Karofsky used to 'watch me' a few months ago? That's not just _crazy_, that's simply _moronic_!"

"Oh shut your yap Hummel! And yeah, we're gonna get you dressed in this thing Lipoff scored us, and we're gonna wrap you up and give ya ass to K for Christmas."

Kurt was dumbstruck, staring wonderously at the enormous jock. Were they actually serious? It sure sounded like it, but he could _never_ imagine...

"...You are _actually_ crazy aren't you?"

Before and around him the jocks all huffed, some of them even murmuring about 'getting a move on', something which the rest of them seemed to agree with. So, unceremoniously being grabbed and dragged to one of the empty parts of the locker room Kurt was told to get the costume in the bag on.

Only, when he finally _saw_ what this costume was, he was disgusted and horrified. Not that he had actually been planning on putting it on in the first place – because, _hello_, there was no way he was going through with this idiotic scheme of theirs – but seeing this positively _awful_ thing in red and green with _fucking wings_ going with it... They truly managed to reach whole new levels of idiocy if they thought he would put _that_ on voluntarily.

He wasn't afraid to tell them so either.

"There is absolutely _no fucking way_ I'm putting that thing on!" he bellowed at the huge jock towering before him, balling the costume up and throwing it at Azimio's irritating face. "You take me the hell home right now, or I'll fucking call the police!" He had reached the point of too fucking much a long time back, and was in no mood for their games anymore. Not that he'd ever been in the first place.

"Suck it up, will ya?!" Azimio shouted back at him, stalking forth and pressing the fabric back against his chest. "'N if ya won't put it on yourself we'll do it for ya. We don't give a fuck how gay it is, K's getting his gift!"

Huffing frustratedly Kurt considered his options quickly; on the one hand it was fighting them tooth and nail about this – but he had a feeling he was in a great disadvantage against the strong, athletic boys. On the other hand he could just surrender – ever so temporarily – and just get Karofsky to give him a ride home or something later. Finn had said something about the guy being far more agreeable in that past month, something Mercedes and Rachel hadn't disagreed with.

It was weird that the first time seeing each other since that awful meeting in Figgin's office the month prior would be under these circumstances.

"Fine," he hissed angrily, snatching the god-awful cloth from Azimio's hands and sitting down dejectedly on the unforgiving bench. "You'll have to go though, there's no way I'm changing in front of you. Especially not if I'm forced into this disgrace."

"That's cool," Azimio surprisingly agreed, turning to walk away. "But don't even _think_ 'bout runnin'," he shouted as he disappeared out of Kurt's sight. "Nowhere for ya to run anyway."

And sadly that was oh so true. The only exit was on the other side of the room, and there was no way Kurt could manage to stalk his way past twelve jocks. Twelve jocks whose only job here was to guard him from leaving.

Fuck.

Frustrated whimpers lodged in his throat Kurt stepped inside the atrocious garment, the polyester blend in it already itching uncomfortably against his skin. The red and green striped clothes were tight-fitting; the shirt stretching partway down his thighs and ending in horribly cut triangles. He looked like a damned male Tinkerbell who'd had someone throwing up Christmas on their clothes. The wings certainly didn't help with the picture. Nor did the hat with a bell attached to the end of it.

"You guys work with cruel and unusual punishments," Kurt commented as he walked out from his corner of the locker room, his pajamas clenched in his hands. "Does anyone know which locker is Finn's? I need to keep these somewhere where they won't tear."

"Not sure if Hudson's locker's the best place to put it," one of the few unfamiliar jocks said, something which Kurt reluctantly agreed with, but it was the only option he was comfortable with. "It's this one," he said, opening the locker for Kurt and letting him stuff the clothes inside where he thought they wouldn't get damaged – somewhere which certainly wasn't on the old egg-salad sandwich laying on the bottom.

Kurt would need to have another talk with his brother about hygiene. A descriptive one at that.

"Good," Azimio said, clapping his hands together. "Now just get in the box so we can take ya to K's place."

The box in question was positively huge – the top of it still open so that Kurt would be able to climb into it. Sighing tiredly when nobody was chivalrously enough to give him a steadying hand when climbing in – and why was he even surprised – Kurt sat down on the bottom. Crossing his legs so that he would be as comfortable as possible Kurt watched as they began to shut the box.

"You do have some air holes on that thing?" he asked them knowingly, once again taken aback by the jock's combined stupidity. "I'm not sure if Karofsky's into necrophilia, but if he isn't I doubt he'll appreciate the gesture."

"Of course we have air holes!" one jock argued aggressively.

He could also hear one of the other's mumbling wonderously to another and asking what necrophilia meant, but Kurt chose to ignore that. Far too easy a target for his tastes.

Kurt only crossed his arms, raising one eyebrow challengingly.

"Hey Lipoff," Azimio demanded moments later, drawing Kurt's attention from the seething jock before him, "get some scissors or somethin'."

Kurt only grinned victoriously at the irritated teen, amused when he just glared back even angrier than before.

* * *

><p>A few hours later Kurt found himself still sitting in that damned box, left all alone in what he assumed to be the Karofsky living room (he could see specks of green – as if from a Christmas tree – through the small holes now covering the box). His hands were now bound together with tinsel behind his back – uncomfortable as hell – and with a bauble stuck in his mouth with more tinsel woven around his head to keep it in place. Those last little detail had come after he'd pointed out one too many flaws in their plan.<p>

_'If I'm stuck in this box, how do you plan to transport me to Karofsky? I don't assume he lives in this locker room, does he?', 'You do know my father will go absolutely ballistic when he finds I'm not home and won't answer my phone, right?' _and _'You do have a plan for how you'll get inside their house, right? I will _not_ be left on the doorstep!' _being three of his honest questions. There had a few other's, but they didn't matter as much.

He hadn't been provided answers to any but one of his questions; that they'd taken his phone while at his house as well, sending a message claiming he was over at that black chick's house.

"_I hope you didn't call her that in the message_," Kurt had said, primly folding his still unbound hands in his lap. "_He'll find it suspicious if I won't use her proper name_."

"_Of course Az sent the right name_," one of the non-descriptive jocks had hollered merrily, "_no way he could get the name of his crush wrong_!"

"_I'll kill ya Hale!_" Azimio had bellowed back, but Kurt had only leant back and filed that fact away. It would be good fodder to keep for a later time.

And as for the answer to the other two questions Kurt figured that the first one involved a truck of some sort, because he'd been freezing cold the entire ride over, teeth clattering as he'd heard the wind rush past. And they'd must been in ownership of some key, because there had been minimal fretting once the cars stopped.

And after they'd left him alone he'd been bored out of his mind. There wasn't much to do while bound up and stuck in a box; mostly he'd just been mentally reviewing what he'd tell his father should he find out he'd been lied to about Kurt's whereabouts. He knew he couldn't rat out the jocks; for all of their wrongdoings that morning they'd done something essentially good for their friends – though using foul methods – and he couldn't in good conscience have his father report them to the police because of it, or worse.

He could get back at them himself for this later.

He'd also tried dozing off, though that had proved fruitless; without his full mobility he didn't trust himself to lean against the walls of his enclosure, afraid he'd topple over from centering his weight wrong. He'd tried breaking out of the present already, all that had served was pushing the box over on it's side and gaining a fair share of bruises – apparently the jocks had been clever enough to use a strong and resilient material for their 'package'.

There was a first time for everything he supposed.

So – as it seemed at the moment – he was in for a long wait.

* * *

><p>The harsh steps ringing through the air shook Kurt out of his thoughts, his back straightening as he tried to listen where those steps were. Giving out a muffled shout Kurt heard whoever it was stepping up closer, so close that Kurt could hear the rustling from their clothes, and could see their body vaguely through the small holes littering the sides of his confining box.<p>

"What the-?" he heard somebody mumble lowly as the box was jostled slightly, probably a card perched on top of something. He whined around the bauble in his mouth twice more as he waited, anxious to get out of this oh so tiresome box, but he didn't seem to be heard, as it took a while for whoever it was – most likely Dave, he admitted to himself – to begin opening the 'gift'.

Not even a minute later he was gazing up at his – former? – bully, watching as Dave blinked owlishly back at him, clearly not understanding what he was seeing. But honestly? Kurt wouldn't believe it either, the chances of finding someone bound up in a Christmas present while wearing a fairy costume...

Astronomical was probably the right word describing those odds.

Still, it wasn't necessary to stand there for quite as long as Karofsky was – Kurt was quickly getting impatient. Rolling his eyes he garbled angrily at the towering jock, feeling a small dribble of saliva rushing down his chin as he did – his chin was already disgusting at this point, his skin was going to hate him for this – as he saw Karofsky finally getting a grip of himself.

Being helped on his feet Kurt stretched his legs, wiggling his toes as he did, relishing in the slight freedom he'd been provided. Now, just to get the tinsel and bauble off and hopefully burnt along with his present clothing.

"-did this? Why? I-I don't get- Why are you-?" Kurt realized suddenly that Karofsky was talking, frantic words as he scrambled to help Kurt sit down on the the floor instead. When Kurt looked he could see that all the couches and arm chairs were ladled with presents, much like the rest of the room really. "Family's over," Karofsky explained when he noticed Kurt looking. "They're out in Columbus today though, wanted to get some last minute shopping in."

"Mwhyn drighnt aao oo?" Kurt asked, knowing just how stupid he sounded while doing so.

He watched Karofsky tilting his head confusedly before the light-bulb went off in his mind, then he hurried up on his knees and quick to tangle the bauble out of his mouth. "What was that?" the jock asked embarrassed, still leaning unusually close to Kurt.

"Why didn't you go?" Kurt asked again, wanting to rub his jaw from how sore he felt, somewhat irritated when his wrist chafed against one another as he moved to lift them. Karofsky would probably get to that soon, after he'd answered Kurt's question most likely.

"It's kinda complicated," Karofsky admitted, looking down at the carpeted floor below him. "Long story short; came out to them last night, and dad thought it was a good idea to give them some room to get along with the idea. Sorta happy to not have to spend the entire day at a mall though..."

Understanding completely Kurt nodded, gazing down at the floor too, not sure how to respond. He'd pretty much been through the same thing the previous year, though his relatives – bar his dad, and his aunt Mildred – had mostly been in denial about his sexuality before he told them anything explicitly.

"Sorry," Kurt offered eventually, feeling a bit bad for the hockey player.

"Not your fault," Karofsky shrugged, slumping down on himself.

"Still. It has to be hard. You only _just_ came out to your dad and at school. Finn," he explained when Karofsky looked at him confusedly. He wasn't supposed to know that apparently.

"Should've guessed Hudson wouldn't keep quiet," he mumbled, leaning back on his heels.

Things got awkward between them after that, neither knowing how to continue. Kurt sat there thinking about the situation he'd somehow gotten himself into, absentmindedly pressing his wrists together as he did.

The faint movement in the corner of his eyes brought him out of his jumbled train of thought.

"Aren't you gonna unbind my hands?" Kurt asked the jock perplexed when he sat back down and crossed his legs.

"I wanna apologize first, you might leave before I get a chance to if I cut those strings," he responded carefully, as if he was afraid Kurt would get mad.

"You don't have to Karofsky," Kurt assured the teen vehemently, anxious to be released so he could rub his sore wrists. "Just untie me."

"Look Hum- Kurt. I _need_ to apologize, okay?" Karofsky sighed, dragging a hand over his face. "I feel _horrible_ about what I did to you, so just _please _let me tell you how sorry I am."

Karofsky's eyes looked completely miserable as Kurt gazed into them, the golden brown so full of sorrow and guilt that Kurt couldn't deny him that wish. So he tilted his face down in a slow nod, agreeing to let Karofsky speak.

"Thank you," the big jock sighed, untangling his legs and drawing his knees up against his chest. "I always felt different, okay? But I knew I shouldn't; around me everyone told me that being different was wrong, that those kind of people would burn in hell for their sins. For years I did everything I could to make sure nobody could tell just _how _different I was." He sighed deeply. "Then I began at McKinley, and there was this guy, all prim and proper and _perfect_. I couldn't stop staring. So, afraid that someone would notice I started pushing the guy around a little bit, started helping with tossing him in the dumpsters when I could... joined the guys when they decided to throw pee balloons at him. Things just escalated after that. I started thinking about this guy all the time, so I began throwing slushies at him. I would start smiling all the time when I heard his name, so I gave him a swirly."

Kurt felt his heart begin to pound as Karofsky took a deep breath before looking up at him. He surely couldn't be talking about _him_, could he? Karofsky had kissed him, sure, but Kurt wasn't that special. He wasn't anywhere near extraordinary enough for someone to fall like that for him; he fell for other's, not the other way around.

Never the other way around.

"I'm so sorry for everything I did Kurt. I know I don't deserve it, especially not after I _threatened your life_, but I hope that one day you might forgive me."

Karofsky was crying. Hell, _Kurt_ was crying. Though it hadn't excused anything Karofsky had done to him, put him through, it sure explained the jock's actions.

"And now?" Kurt asked, voice curious – and kind of throaty – as he felt tears fall down his cheeks.

"Now... Now I just hope that you'll one day will forgive me. I can't ask for anything more than that."

"But if you could," Kurt pressed on, not sure why he was so anxious to hear the answer, "then what would you want?"

"Another kiss," Karofsky admitted, not looking up once. "I'd like another chance to make it the way I've always dreamt of, not what happened back there.

Breath hitching, Kurt felt his heart thrum hotly. That... actually sounded sort of nice. How strange.

"So why don't you? Ask for it?" Kurt wondered, eyes falling shut on their own validation, fantasies running rampant in his mind.

"Kurt-?" Karofsky questioned.

"Please?" Kurt breathed, lifting his face and looking straight into the bigger boy's unbelieving eyes.

"Can- can I kiss you Kurt?" Karofsky asked with a slight stutter in his voice.

He nodded, a quiet 'yeah' falling from his lips.

Palm cupping his face Kurt felt himself shudder; his eyes fluttering shut when he felt Karo- no, _Dave_ getting closer, their lips only a fraction of an inch apart. He could feel warm puffs of breath against his barely parted lips, taking one last shaking breath himself before they gently met, softly sighing into the kiss.

This, _this_ was what Kurt had imagined his first kiss to be. This... this was soft, sweet... _perfect._

"Untie me? Please?" Kurt asked, straining his lips forward to catch the muscular boy into another kiss. Soon there were clumsy hands grappling around his lower arms, fingers searching. Kurt hissed when Dave accidentally pulled on the piece of tinsel wound around his wrists, but the silent 'I'm sorry' the jock provided with another mind-blowing kiss was enough to soothe his ache.

Hands falling apart Kurt didn't have one thought of leaving – not with how _loved_ and _cherished_ he felt in that moment; Dave Karofsky of all people kissing him so wonderfully, so astonishingly good. Instead he brought his hands up, tangling his fingers into that short hair and tugging lightly, wringing a low moan out of the tall jock that went straight to Kurt's gut.

He never imagined how hotly he would react to such a simple sound; his blood already pulsing with heated arousal. He, who wasn't even able to watch porn – usually shuddering just thinking about such things – was because of a simple kiss already thrumming with thick want.

What was happening to him?

Climbing up into David's lap Kurt wove his arms around the jock's thick neck, molding their lips closer and gladly accepting the tongue seeking permission to tangle together with his own. Body moving on it's own Kurt found himself grinding himself down against Dave, small noises slipping out of his throat as he did.

Oh God, what was happening to him? And what could he do to always feel like this?

"Are you sure about this?" Dave questioned him, biting his lip when Kurt wouldn't stop moving. "We only just kissed, are you sure you want to-?"

"Yes. Not- not everything, but something. Definitely something," Kurt rambled, hips moving without any indication of stopping. "Any- anything you want to do?"

He knew there was something when Dave blushed, quick to hide his face against Kurt's neck.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, curious and amused. He always thought _he_ would be the one blushing should he ever end up in a situation like this.

"I kinda always... thought about maybe... trying to... taste you, maybe?"

Mind suddenly blank Kurt couldn't do much than beg 'yes, yes, please' and 'oh holy- _yes_', his hands pawing over Dave's neck as he shook violently in the tall boy's hold. God did that sound amazing, just- mmpf!

"How do you want me?" he whispered against Dave's ear, feeling bold.

"Lying down, maybe?" Dave said tentatively.

"Sound good," Kurt agreed. There wasn't much to do anyway when the few feet beside the tree were the only open spaces anyway.

Though he almost regretted that decision when the wings he was still wearing – what the hell, how could he forget he was wearing such despicable things?! – pressed painfully against his spine. It was hastily fixed though by sitting up and ripping them up, vowing to destroy them at a later time.

"How are you supposed to get these things off?" Karofsky asked, fingers searching for a way to get Kurt's leggins off.

Remembering that they had such a high waist that they came all the way up to his ribs Kurt told him to just rip them off. "It's not like I'll ever wear them again."

He still gasped when Dave did as said, gripping the fabric over his hardened length and teared the garment apart, the strips of fabric falling all over and revealing his pelvis and thighs fully. Then he was soon grabbed; his base squeezed experimentally with a finger stroking over his sensitive balls.

"You sure I can do this?" Dave asked, fingers trailing up Kurt's length.

"Mhmm, God yes."

He wasn't aware of Dave moving as he kept his eyes closed, but he sure felt it when those lips began to mouth over him. It wasn't like anything he'd ever dreamed of – it was far better than his wildest dreams.

Hot, wet, and that lovely tongue tracing his stretched skin; it was too amazing for words.

Kurt was gripping his own hair so hard he was afraid he would pull it out of their roots, yet there was no way he could let the pressure up, not when Dave was working him over like he was.

Sadly Dave didn't even get a chance to take even the tip of him into his mouth – Kurt was sure it would have been positively glorious – he was just so close to coming but he wanted it to last. He wanted them to come together.

"Just, can we do something else. Wanna come with you, 'kay?" he explained when forcing the bulky boy away from his heavily leaking length.

"Yeah," Dave breathed, his mouth swollen red from all the kisses he'd pressed against Kurt's straining flesh. Kurt shivered when noticing his darkened eyes – the jock had obviously enjoyed that just as much as Kurt had. "Your turn," Dave decided. "What do you want to do?"

"I think I want you over me, covering me completely. Would it be okay if I lay on my stomach, and you lay over me, and we just- moved?" he finished awkwardly, not able to explain his thoughts without blushing furiously.

"Uh-huh," Dave swallowed harshly. "We can- we can do that."

"So, I'll just-" Kurt stuttered, fingers pointing behind himself in the air.

Turning over Kurt lay down, most of his upper body now splayed out under the decorated tree. Glancing up momentarily Kurt stared wonderously at the spectacular sight before him.

Those were some gorgeous lights.

His focus wasn't kept by the lights for long though, the moment he felt Dave crawling over him he was lost, groaning. He adored how protected he felt like this; Dave's body covering him fully, his weight pressing Kurt down against the floor.

The irony was not lost on him that it was his – most definitely former – bully making him feel like this, the boy that had once caused him such terror now providing him such safety. Right then it didn't matter though, how could it when Dave felt so good against him?

He moaned when Dave slotted in between his cheeks. Kurt had not planned on that happening, but now that it did he sure didn't want it to stop – the friction against his cleft was positively glorious.

"Yes, Dave, please," he gasped, hands scrabbling behind himself as he searched for Dave's bigger set. Luckily Dave took them, grasping them in his, and Kurt whimpered when he held them down against the floor beside his head.

"This okay?" Dave wondered, voice panting as he rocked against Kurt, his length pushing against Kurt's perky ass.

"Definitely," Kurt moaned, tilting his hips up so that they could rock even harder against one another. This new position made Dave able to get his dick lodged even deeper between Kurt's cheeks, every stroke now dragging over Kurt's twitching hole, occasionally catching over it and making Kurt fucking whimper.

"Dave," Kurt moaned, "I- I'm clo-close. Are you-?"

"Yes, yes, so close," Dave nodded, hips bucking forward erratically. "Together?"

"Oh yes, together," Kurt agreed, stomach seizing up just moments after, and he spilled against the carpet, coating it white as Dave shot across the swell of his ass and lower back.

He felt Dave mouthing over his shoulder as he came down from his spectacular high, and smiled at the sweet grin Dave gave him when he tilted his head to look at him.

* * *

><p>"Do you regret this, now that it's over?" Dave asked him later, fingers tracing over his open palm, his eyes cast downwards.<p>

"You know what? I don't think I do," Kurt admitted, smiling where he lay cuddled up against Dave's chest, chin propped up on Dave's surprisingly toned pec. "You don't, do you?"

"No. Don't think I ever could," Dave grinned.

"Good. Wouldn't want to need to beat you into perhaps doing this again sometime," Kurt suggested dirtily.

"We'll do this again?" Dave asked him, eyes alight with such hope it almost made Kurt's heart ache.

"Don't think I could stop, actually."


	24. Burt

**Pairing: Kurt/Burt.**

**Prompt: Burt wakes up from a sex dream to find that the dream is true, someone is sucking his cock. And that someone is Kurt. Sleepy confused Burt tries to make Kurt stop but Kurt is having none of it.**  
><strong>Bonus points if Kurt handcuffed Burt to the headboard. No non-condub-con please.**

**Words: 3192**

**Kinks: Blowjob, bondage, rutting, incest, maybe ****_hints_****of slight dub-con**

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><p>Kurt Hummel loved Christmas mornings. When he had been young and his mother had still been alive everything had seemed so exciting and magical; laughter and giddy exhilaration overtaking the entire Hummel household from the moment little Kurt would toddle his way into his parents room and wake them up by bouncing between the two grown-ups on the bed and crying out 'that it was finally Christmas!' in his high-pitched, joyful voice.<p>

And while things had definitely changed since then (for one he didn't jump on bed's anymore in such childish manner, nor was his mother present when he'd go to wake his father up nowadays), it hadn't necessarily all been for the worse. Some things about Christmas mornings over the last few years were certainly things he would always remember fondly for the rest of his life.

Like the fact that instead of rushing down to open his presents like he did when he was younger Kurt could instead take his time and sit down with a warm mug of cocoa as he waited for his father to join him. He would always remember those quiet and peaceful moments when he'd watch out the windows and stare at the snow falling softly outside, occasionally taking a small sip of his chocolate and feeling the warmth spread through him.

Or how the first thing his father would do when he'd eventually come downstairs was to immediately head straight for Kurt and pull him into a enormous hug, engulfing him with his solid and warm build, making them both relax into each other before sitting down pressed against one another, side by side and leisurely opening their presents. Unlike when Kurt had been younger and Burt would only ruffle his hair before sitting in his chair with Elisabeth on the armrest whilst Kurt would sit beneath the tree alone, tearing the paper apart on all of his presents in his hurry to open them.

However, there was one thing he would remember with even more clarity than either of those things. There was one thing about Christmas mornings nowadays that would forever be burned into his mind, and that was the way he would wake his father up.

For the last couple of years Kurt had taken an... well, simply put it was an unusual way of waking his father up. While most teenagers would still act like children and jump on their parents beds to rouse them this particular morning, Kurt had found a more... satisfying way of doing so.

Two years ago to the day Kurt had woken up sweating and panting, his loose pajama pants feeling oddly constricting and exhilarating images swimming past his eyes in quick succession. All of them involving one certain person besides himself; the two of them in one incriminating position after the other. Kurt had immediately rushed out of his room in the basement and hurriedly (or as quickly as he possibly could with such an uncomfortable situation in his pajama pants) rushed up the two floors to his father's bedroom, where he'd at once knelt between his father's legs and proceeded to awkwardly lick up his father's surprisingly monstrous dick. And though Burt had been initially against it when waking up Kurt had quickly managed to convince his father to let him continue, just by lapping gently at the head of his father's cock.

That had been the start of Kurt's all time favorite tradition.

Now, two years later, Kurt was silently making his way up to his father's bedroom, knowing from experience that he didn't want his father waking up before he was ready – like he'd accidentally done last year, when he'd then had to spend almost half an hour repeatedly needing to assure his father that he actually wanted to do this before finally getting to his prize. In his heart he knew the only thing Burt wanted to be certain about was that Kurt was sure about it, and that he wouldn't regret it afterwards – but it was annoying enough when he wouldn't believe Kurt the first time he told his father that he was one-hundred-and-ten percent sure about this, nor the fifth or twentieth time he told his father so. Honestly, he knew Burt loved this just as much as he himself had the first time. The continuous glances his father had thrown his way over the course of the first year after his initial blowjob had been enough proof of that.

No, that was not gonna happen this year. This year Kurt was prepared. This year he wasn't going to spend even the slightest minute arguing with his father about this. This year, everything was gonna be perfect.

Sure, it had been embarrassing to say the least when he'd asked Santana to help him find the handcuffs, but the endless teasing would be worth it when Burt wouldn't be able to do anything when he'd find him between his thighs. Just the thought made Kurt shudder where he was soundlessly trying to open the door to his father's bedroom.

Tiptoeing his way inside Kurt glanced at his father across the room, before carefully closing the door behind him. Swinging the padded black handcuffs lightly back-and-forth on his finger as he sneaked towards the bed Kurt watched entranced at the steady rise and fall of his father's chest, knowing just what was hidden underneath that cover.

Kurt knew that there would only be one difficult thing about what he was about to do, and that was managing to cuff his father to the bed without the old man waking up before Kurt actually wanted him to. That was why Kurt was so incredibly cautious about the whole thing; slowly, oh so slowly removing the cover from his father's body before trying to carefully wrestle his father's heavy arms over his head with trembling hands, anxious to finally get around to the main event.

When at last the final soft click rang through the otherwise silent room Kurt heaved a deep sigh of relief, knowing the hardest part was over and that he could finally get around to his favorite part of the morning.

Climbing onto the bed after removing his father's boxer's (his own clothes thrown hazardously across the room, for once not _caring in the least_ about where they landed) Kurt let his hands wander mindlessly over his father's thighs, eyes zeroed in on the huge prize in the middle. Geez, he was even bigger than Kurt had remembered!

His mouth was absolutely flooded with saliva as he bent down to place a soft little kiss to his father's thigh, knowing he needed to calm himself down before doing anything stupid like trying to take the entire length of his father into his throat. That could never end any other way than badly. So instead he stuck to kissing and licking and nuzzling his father's thighs as he felt his excitement fade slowly, but never entirely.

Above him he could hear the faintest of noises coming from his father when he began sucking at the crease between thigh and groin trying to leave his mark, and he was amazed at the effect he had on the grown man, especially so when he could just feel against his cheek that Burt was getting harder by the second. Soothing his tongue over the reddened flesh, not wanting his father to wake up just yet, Kurt moved on to nestle against his father's shaft. He'd missed the musky smell of it; the smell of wood, of sweat, of grease, of something purely _Burt_.

Pressing a wet kiss against the base of the cock before him Kurt let his tongue run in short quick laps over the solid flesh before him. Mmm, the taste was something he had missed too; this salty and somewhat bitter flavor that he hadn't been able to get out of his mind all year. That he'd _missed_ all year.

Gripping the base of his father's dick Kurt pressed his tongue even more firmly against the length, letting it caress every little inch of it before circling the crown and dipping gently into the little slit, tasting the small bead of precome resting there. He had to moan quietly in the back of his throat at the taste; Gaga how he'd missed this!

Opening his mouth up further he sunk his lips past the very tip of his father's head, suckling messily and making spit leak from the corners of his mouth down his chin and all over his father's dick. It was all for the better though, because when he took even more of the shaft inside it slid easily, the hard and wet meat not catching in the least on his slick lips.

Kurt felt so wonderfully full with his lips stretched so wide around the cock before him, his hot and moist mouth absolutely flooded with his father's fat length. It had been such a long year since the last time he'd felt so full, so _complete_, and the young countertenor had to close his eyes tightly shut at how overwhelming it all really was. He'd missed this; had missed having something stretching his mouth so badly those past twelve months, had missed having his _father_ filling him up so greatly.

Placing his palms down flat against his father's strong thighs Kurt began to ever so leisurely bob his head up and down the thick cock, his nails raking down the soft flesh he held whenever he got too exhilarated and tried to take too much. His eyes had begun to tear up horribly when he'd gagged for the third time, but Kurt didn't care in the least about that, only cursed his own gag-reflex for existing in the first place and tried to take those few more inches down his throat again.

Above and below him he could feel his father starting to rouse from his dreams; dreams that apparently had been _very _pleasing during the past minutes, if the steady flow of moans and grunts had been anything to go by. Kurt grinned at the thought, knowing very well that it was him who had made his father's dreams so raunchy, that it was him treating Burt's dick like a freaking lollipop that had most probably turned rather innocent dreams into things akin to porn movies.

He wondered briefly what those dreams had been about. If they were about his mother. If they were about _him_. In the end he pushed the thoughts away, knowing better than to dwell on things he would never get the answer to. Instead focused back on feeling his father's muscles spasm under his touch, of feeling the big member in his throat twitch as he heard his father gasp breathily.

"K-Kurt?" he heard his father ask, before the rattling of the handcuffs reached his ears. Kurt didn't took the time to answer his father properly, only grinned around the length filling him as he looked up at the bound man gazing blearily back at him. Digging his fingers in lightly into the flesh beneath them Kurt sunk back down his father dick, all the while keeping their eyes firmly locked.

He didn't miss the obvious shiver running down his father's spine, just like he didn't miss the small hitch in his father's breath or the strain of his muscles as he tried to move.

"Kurt?" his father asked again, closing his eyes. Kurt pouted, or at least tried to, disappointed at losing sight of those lust-filled and darkened eyes that had been so utterly hazy with pleasure that _Kurt _had placed there. "Kurt, what are you doing?"

Kurt had to snort at that, and pulled himself off the thick length filling him. "I'm parachuting," he answered dryly, licking a broad stripe up the side of his father's flesh, "what do you think I'm doing?"

Had his father been properly awake Kurt knew he would have heard a response of something along the lines of 'don't get smart with me, boy' or 'cut the sarcasm, squirt'; but then again, had his father been properly awake Kurt probably wouldn't have been able to worship the dick before him like he was doing. No, instead what came out of his father's mouth was a drawn out moan, fallowed by a litany of stuttered and broken words as his father tried to convince him that he didn't have to do this – as if it wasn't Kurt that had initiated the whole thing in the first place – assuring him that Burt wouldn't get mad and that Kurt by no means had to finish whatever he was doing.

After hearing his father's muttered plea for many long moments Kurt finally gripped the base of the length he'd been caressing so reverently seconds earlier and caught his father's eyes harshly, silencing him without a word.

"Dad, I want this. Just like I wanted it last year and the year before. Now you hush, because I want to gag on that beautiful cock of yours and I don't want to hear another word out of you that isn't a moan or a wail. Okay? Okay." And without hesitating Kurt was back to swallowing that shaft down his throat just like he'd promised he would, satisfied when the only thing passing his father's lips were the low grunts he'd longed to hear for the past year.

Mindful to lap over the thick vein running up the underside of his father's cock with his tongue every time he drew his head back Kurt began to play with the other parts of his father's body that he could reach. He scratched lightly over the coarse hairs on his father's belly, Kurt ghosted his fingertips over the little white scar on his father's side from removing his appendix, and he jovially drew patters over the many birthmarks scattered over his father's right hip. When he'd had his fill – all the while sucking happily at the flesh in his mouth – Kurt took his father's heavy balls in his hands, caressing them and softly kneading them in his warm palm.

Above him his father had resorted to biting his lip; unable to break free of his bonds Burt had resigned to Kurt's ministrations, agreeing to simply riding out whatever Kurt wanted to give him. Kurt could still hear the little noises passing those red-bitten lips though, and he delighted in them, letting them travel through his body and aligning sparks all over.

It wasn't until that precise moment that Kurt realized how achingly hard he was himself; it hadn't really mattered earlier when his excitement of finally having his mouth filled again had overruled everything else, when his father's pleasurable sighs had made his mind buzz so pleasantly. Now though, now Kurt was taking notice of how his own arousal was pressing against the bedding beneath him, he was finally noticing how much it _hurt_. How much he needed to _come_ already.

And just like that Kurt was back into his frenzy. Though this time it wasn't the sheer frenzy of having his father's dick back in him after going so long without, no, this time it was a frenzy for having them both coming as quick as possible. Because realizing that his own impending orgasm was so close Kurt began aching for having his father's to hit as soon as possible, hunger for that come to fill his mouth so desperate that Kurt was willing to do anything to make that happen.

Rutting fervently into the bedding beneath him Kurt swallowed more and more of that fat dick down his throat, humming and sucking and doing everything in his might to make his father _just come already_.

Kurt played every dirty trick he knew, just willing his father to come, allowing Kurt to finally get a taste of that glorious cum. He sucked the dick harder than before, he took it in deeper, he sped up his bobbing – sometimes holding himself down when he got his father in as deep as he could without choking, swallowing madly around that length then and feeling his throat trapping that meat for long moments at a time, before releasing it once more to catch his breath.

In the end it wasn't long before he could hear his father stuttering out a warning, a broken off 'Kurt' amidst several deep grunts. So, sucking only that thick bulb of a head into his mouth Kurt stroked the rest of his father's shaft quickly with his hand, just waiting for Burt to finally come and coat his mouth in thick, white stripes.

And come Burt did; straining the cuffs holding him down the mechanic groaned out as he painted the walls all around Kurt's mouth an outstanding pearly white, the taste and feel of it making Kurt rut desperately and fervently into the sheets below him as he came as well. Letting the thick shaft fall from his mouth Kurt moaned loudly as he saw sparks shoot before his eyes, beads of cum running down his chin from the corners of his lips as he did before falling back down at his father's groin and joining the already existing mess there.

Kurt swallowed the load in his mouth the moment he calmed down enough to control his muscles again; very much so enjoying the salty flavor running down his throat as he did before nuzzling back down to his father's shrinking length and devouring any stray droplet coating his father.

Sufficiently clean Kurt crawled over his father, unlocked the restraints around his obviously sore but fine wrists before laying down splayed over his father's wide chest. There he curled up to finally catch his breath properly, allowing the feel of his father's steady breathing to calm and soothe him and his suddenly limp body.

"You okay there, buddy?" Burt asked him eventually, when Kurt had just laid there for a long while.

"I'm fine dad," Kurt responded, rolling his eyes fondly. He was just enjoying to be cuddled up so close to his father. Even though they were far from distant in their every day life it was nice to feel so close to his father this time of year, and just like Burt would make his utmost the entire day to grab every opportunity to hug Kurt close to him so he wouldn't feel the absence of his mother so strongly, Kurt took this chance to cuddle up to his father and just be.

"You sure? You know you can tell me if anything's going on."

"I'm sure daddy."

And Kurt was, he really was.

Later he would insist that his father take a long and deserved shower, and he would do the same. They'd get dressed in fresh pajamas and then they'd reunite in the living room like always to open their gifts.

But for now? For now Kurt was very much content to feel his father's heartbeat under his cheek as he closed his eyes and just took the moment in – savoring it and imprinting it in his memory.


	25. Chrimukkwanzakuh

**Pairing: Kurt/Tina/Matt, Mercedes/Quinn, Puck/Artie, Mike/Santana/Rachel & Finn/Brittany. Hints of Kurt/Santana and Kurt/Mike.**

**Prompt: A XXX-MAS STORY: A Chrimukkwanzakuh party is happening and the booze is flowing! There are copious amounts of mistletoe hanging around Kurt's house and those who are under it have to do MUCH more than kiss. Bonus gleegasms for really random couples having very public sexual interactions. Everyone/Everyone Slash/Het/WHO CARES.**

**Words: 2070**

**Kinks: PIV, anal, oral.**

**AN: And here we are. The final chapter. The final prompt. The prompt that started this whole thing. I guess the only thing that is left to say is thanks for reading, thanks for staying with me and my crazy-ass stories and/or pairings. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate today, and I hope you will have a splendid holiday all of you! Love, Bunnies.**

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><p>It's the close-by moaning that rouses Kurt from his sleep; the two very attractive men attending to him and his very prominent situation in his dream being pushed aside by loud cries and soft whimpers from just the other side of the doorway.<p>

It's the smell around him that however hits him first; the foul odour of sex and booze just _reeking _around him, _from_ him, is distracting, and making him somewhat nauseous. One thought flies through his mind: 'What is going on?'

It isn't until the countertenor finally opens his bleary eyes that he realizes that he's lying on the hallway floor, an assortment of hazardously thrown shoes just inches from his somewhat naked body. Kurt shivers, not remembering in the least why the hell he's been sleeping where he is, or why he is only wearing his briefs.

It's in that moment that a very shrill voice screams out behind him again, and he remembers, at least partly.

The Glee club had insisted upon getting together for a little holiday celebration (or formally dubbed a ' Chrimukkwanzakuh party' by an eager Mercedes), and Kurt had volunteered his house as Burt was supposed to visit some cousins in the next town over anyway and had encouraged Kurt to bring over some friends so he wouldn't be alone.

The fact that he had been explicitly told that there would be no alcohol allowed during this time had obviously been brushed aside, seeing that the living room was now practically flooded with various bottles that had at one point earlier that evening contained beverages of questionable alcoholic content. Putting it plainly; they were all drunk as hell. And coupling that with the many, _many _mistletoes Mercedes and Tina had hung up earlier... things had sort of gone _way_ out of control very quickly.

Kurt could distantly – through a rather prominent pounding in his head – remember Santana bouncing above him some time that night, and he could recall getting very intimate with Mike's mouth in the beginning of their little party. The reason to why he was lying where he was at the moment, however, was nothing short of a mystery. As was the explanation to why he wasn't wearing clothes.

Groaning tiredly as he listened to a long series of broken moans Kurt dragged a hand over his eyes before leaning up on his elbow and peeking through one eye at the room around him. All he could really see is shoe after shoe, at least until he twist his head, which is when he can distinguish a small heap of clothes in the corner.

God, he's gonna kill himself in the morning for the damage he's put his designer clothes through.

It takes Kurt a few minutes before he can stand up without risking falling over (how much did he even drink?), but when he can without clutching at the paneled wall he walks unsteadily over to his – most likely wrinkled beyond repair – clothes. Not bothering with getting all of the layers of his earlier outfit on, Kurt only puts on the pants and what had been the somewhat see-through knitted sweater; not even caring that if squinting people could clearly make out his chest and stomach, deciding to only hold on to the other items. He's only going to see what the other's are up to before going downstairs to his bed anyway. There isn't any need to struggle through putting on his elaborate array of undershirts and various accessories for that.

Fallowing the sound proves very effective when searching for his friends, but Kurt almost wishes he'd gone straight to bed when he finally spots them, gasping quietly to himself and dropping his clothes on the floor beside him. Standing in the doorway he can see Mercedes sitting slumped down in his father's armchair where there is a green twig hanging from the top of it, her chocolate colored legs spread far apart with a very enthusiastic Quinn kneeling between them.

The slurping noises coming from them are absolutely filthy - Kurt blushes just listening to them and has to close his eyes to remind himself that it's actually necessary to breath properly.

But closing ones eyes aren't always that helpful, is it? Especially not so when it was the noises in particular that affected him so greatly in the beginning, seeing that neither of them seemed to even had lost a single article of clothing. Closing his eyes only makes every sound stand out even more, and he has to hurry on walking before his face is the perfect resemblance of a tomato.

It's only the memories of what the other's has seen _him_ do over the course of the evening that keeps him from feeling guilty of catching them in the first place.

Closing the door behind him when he reaches the kitchen Kurt leans against the door, sagging down towards the floor as he sighs deeply in relief, head hidden in his hands. No more public sex, he thinks gratefully - though he is familiar with just how many mistletoes Tina had decorated the house with.

Which is of course the reason to why someone has to moan out a litany of curse words at that precise moment, making his head whip up at lightning speed, already worrying about what he might find. And if Kurt thought catching Quinn eating Mercedes out was embarrassing it has nothing against finding Santana bent over his kitchen table (and he's gonna have to burn that and buy a new one before his father comes home tomorrow afternoon isn't he?), with her left leg lifted and bent beside her by Mike as he steadily thrust himself into her wide open and gaping ass. The fact that Rachel sat curled up at her front and licked gently at her dripping pussy was just the cherry on the top of his sundae of embarrassment, and watching the diva's own finger's most probably fucking into herself – if the motion going on beneath her skirt is anything to go by – was something Kurt was desperate to forget.

Nope, maybe the living room hadn't been such a bad place to be after all.

Kurt quickly scrambles himself up and hurls himself out of the room and back into the empty hallway, the steady staccato of their groans and whimpers fallowing him until he closes that door too.

The pale teen _really_ doesn't want to know what he will find next as he stumbles up the stairs to check the rooms there, but he knows he won't get a moment of sleep unless he knows that every single one of his friends are safe and okay. It would kill him if they found someone drowned in his father's bathtub the fallowing morning, knowing that he might have prevented it by just checking up on them.

Hesitating with his hand on the handle to his father's bedroom door Kurt can clearly hear the sharp shouts coming from inside, and he wonders if this means he can just skip it and hurry back downstairs to his bedroom. In the end however he takes a deep breath and peaks his head through the door, only getting a quick look at Artie blowing Puck before closing it quickly again and turning around.

...Wait a minute...

Opening the door again he takes in the scene before him once more; Artie is lying down on his father's bed as Puck feeds him his thick length time and time again. Artie's hard too, his hand curled around his shaft and stroking in time with the fat cock fucking into his mouth. Beside them lies a forgotten piece of green shrubbery, innocently peeking out from Puck's discarded pants.

This is one sight Kurt doesn't actually mind seeing that much; it's really hot. Also a little addictive. He's hard himself before he's even had a moments thought, but it isn't all that long – really not even a full minute – before he feels guilty for watching them for as long as he has and he closes the door behind him again.

Whimpering to himself as he palms his newly formed erection Kurt slings an arm over his eyes as he leans against the wall. God, had that been fucking hot or what?! He actually really wants to open the door again, just to watch a little bit more, or maybe even joining them – Artie looked like he could use some help, and Puck's ass had looked so damned squeezable! And – and – threesome! An all guy threesome at that!

Somehow Kurt powers through it, dropping his hands determinately at his sides refusing to give in to himself, and is soon moving on, desperate to just check the small office and the upstairs bathroom before going to bed. Where he might or might not do something about the situation in his pants before going to sleep again.

The office is thankfully empty; there's far too much important papers and bills in there that could disappear or simply be destroyed by rampant teenagers driven by lust. The bathroom however... there definitely are someone in there. Maybe even two someones.

And yup. There's Finn, sitting on the toilet seat as Brittany rides him with her back resting against the tall teen's bare chest, a small branch of mistletoe hung above them (tomorrow Kurt is gonna ask Mercedes what the hell she had been thinking there). Brittany's obviously close; she visibly squeezes around Finn on every little drop, her thighs quivering in exertion. And even though Kurt wouldn't mind looking just long enough to figure out just _how_ Finn is gifted down there, he closes the door behind them to give them their privacy.

He is _not_ one of those perverted gay guys that the jocks keep accusing him of being, and he has no intention what so ever of becoming one, Kurt reminds himself as he hurries away.

Walking downstairs Kurt's convinced there's two certain people that he hasn't seen yet, but unless they're in his bed, he really doesn't care. He is so god damned hard it _hurts_, and walking is just a pain in the ass. If Tina and Matt are so determined to hide out from him then they can go and do just that. Now Kurt just wants to go to bed and rub one out so he can sleep properly and not twist and turn for hours.

However when he reaches the basement floor, he can clearly hear someone shouting absolute _filth_ not even ten feet from him. The cries are coming from his closet, and, just, hell no, that is just _not_ acceptable! Striding over forcefully and ripping the door open he finds himself face to face with a very half naked Tina straddling an equally half naked, but bound up, Matt. She's sitting primly on top of his pelvis as she peers up at Kurt, squinting because of the sudden bright light. Above them a small twig of mistletoe is hanging from the ceiling of his wardrobe, making Kurt wonder if Tina had planned this earlier when she'd rushed around his house hanging them all up.

"Kurt?" she pants out, placing her hand flat against the dark skin of Matt's stomach and rocking herself forth a little, causing Matt to release another spew of non-family friendly curses and pleas.

Kurt only hums a little in response, too entranced with just how _needy _Matt is sounding at the moment to remember that he had been angry just seconds ago. Why had he even been angry? Did it really matter in the first place?

"Good you're here Kurt," Tina continues, picking up her pace as she once again begins to ride the boy beneath her. "Maybe you can figure out a way to shut him up. I swear, if he says just another word..." She looks down threateningly at the boy on the floor, Matt only grinning sheepishly for a moment before throwing his head back and groaning loudly, his bound together hands shaking above his head.

Kurt smirks as he watches the older boy, and steps closer to both of them, pressing a small kiss to Tina's jet black hair before hurriedly stripping off his pants and tug gently at his sinfully weeping length.

"I know the _perfect_ way for him to put his mouth to good use instead..."


End file.
